My Dear Enemy Poem by Showkat Ahmad Wani

Behold! It speaks the solemn truth of life,
And grants the chance to know thy mind and feats
And speaks thy secret plot ‘gainst virtue's light,
It lures thy cunning bird beneath a snare,
As boys ensnare the bird with idle wings,
It draws a line around thy spite to edge
The brook of venom runs through chest and sight,
And flows through yards to make the children bathe,
It sheens to wither every flower false
Through orchards false, the breeze now gallops fair
The every puff of stink among the feels,
It strikes thy magic fruit to fall and bruise
Beneath the fallen trust of steady feet,
It makes thy hoary figures melt at rise
Divulges the rocks beneath the flower beds,
And sweeps the dust of meekness over graves,
O dear! Thy light grows faint, thy lips grow still,
If want to be in custom run for long
Then take this tongue on hang to play thy flute.
(2018)