Midnight Grief Poem by Sadiqullah Khan

Midnight grief, thou art but a wick’s smoke
Burn me to ash, that before the last flicker,
Dawn is the traveler’s step on treacherous sand
Rise to the setting moon; let the urn sing the secret.
The cup-bearer’s tired hand, hold another cup
Yet the veil hath, the love’s face not revealed.
The fold of mystery shall shine on you soon
Soon shall be the stars laid your way.
Whisper to me, from beneath the dark clouds
Your hair my love, your lips be the candle
What a moth am I, before my sight, still reason?
Storms be my companion, the falcon taketh flight.

Sadiqullah Khan
Islamabad
May 7,2014.

William Francis (Will) Longstaff (Australian,1879-1953) , The Rearguard (the spirit of Anzac) @ carter’s