He, At My Door Step Poem by Shameela Yoosuf Ali

Here comes he
Smiling coldly piercing the roots of being.
I stand here,
Not knowing what is proper and what is not
Welcoming soul in an unwelcoming hour.

Pleading for your embrace I had cried the nights…
Kneeling down in the epoch of wilderness of tears…
When my life was just an abandoned desert
You never came …

It rained and rained and
dry land flourished Fertile and lush…
Now you have come…

Smiling cynically he is waiting at my doorstep
I walk down the aisle to meet my DEATH.

31.01.2012