Oft you hold me up all night
from out of bed but of late,
mark'd by vague impressions of poetry
your seraph wings of gold:
the singularity of a dream world,
that in thought more knit to the mind
than in wanting love in vain;
has ne'er been so deep sense of numbness,
a novice feeling to fill my heart
with this mad song in dull rhyme,
let all senses be clos'd to thine eye:
and I'll still be wide awake,
darkly lit in thy abode.
(C) Naveed Khalid
Copy Rights 2013.
All Rights Reserved.
*Republished
Date Created: Monday, October 21,2013 4: 44: 02 PM
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem