How March Remained Unspoken, For The Cataclysm Of Sunday's Poem by MOHAMMAD HAFIZ GANIE

In a blink and gone, words falling like chalk powder
The words stayed, only the one's spoken with silence

Birds flying from above somewhere, and my empty firmament
I hope they reach, for i believe in the breeze touched their feather

Linked to my home, covered with walnut leaves
I found my experience, being empty on the twelfth March

And i think of March, a better than today
The tomorrow of Sunday's better than it's today

Spending weekends pondering, looking sad while thinking
Under the low light, the true me

And found myself in an astonishment, how far can i go
Though I know this gravity, substantial and cruel

May i live till the bloom, till the next Sunday
The afternoon with Lilies and tulips, grief to how melancholy vanished

-Mohammad Hafiz