Mind Blocks Poem by Naveed Khalid

Far worst than I can think of my woe-begone days,
that in silent hours of soliloquy,
e'ery departed look beyond the sunrise;
makes wither my shipwrecked dreams
from off thy lost memory to another's plight
of white bier to brave thine holy eyen!
grows, giddy, cold and numb with what I most desire,
contented least that star of thy most high deserts:
away from this fedora of yore dream I my secret hath kept
ere the world knows no bounds in full abundance of thy presence,
her stumbled feet at measured distance from afar,
makes beauteous my nights by day's toil too bright,
tolls the bell at my door of eyes so blind;
that crow on wings, on wings thy gilded monument astounds,
of broken mast-shaft at north,
beside the bed of oak in the late evening,
some dry leaves of book in autumn,
full rich content of some vulgar paper to rehearse
that day of unaltered eye no dark can e'er illumine.

(C) Naveed Khalid

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Date Created: Monday, December 21,2015 3: 56: 21 PM