Forgotten Tales Poem by Mehrdad Dadkhah

Woken up in a barren plain.
The Wind danced for my eyes in vain.
Green grass grasping hard onto the ground.
As lofty clouds were looking nonchalantly down.

The sky implored for some soothing rain.
I felt icy touch of the blood cooling every corner of veins.

As the Rain fell, it carried something away.
it washed my sanity; left the madness to prevail.

'No! ' i cried out in pain.
My heart kept on beating pumping the blood to my fragile a brain.

A whisper reached my ears, making my mind wander around.
Blood was dripping down, soaking the the grayish land.
Oh! how nice! a red ground!

Tattered, torn, battered and sore.
Sheltered by shade of a tree,
cut by the hands, painted by gores.
I heard a whisper, talking about mysterious forgotten lores.

Truths told by the wind.
Ruthless melodies and sounds.
Censuring the cause and tempting lies.
Past, future, dusts and the musts.

consciousness was leaving me alone.
I saw the reaper waving his hand.
Did i follow him that day, where the destiny had planed?
even now i stand in wonder; questioning my final stand