Naveed Khalid

Pheasant's Last Words - Poem by Naveed Khalid

Let it befitting to the circumstance,
that odds are to my reckoning days;
of unaccounted judgment to wear out soon,
my tattered soul of passion worn
between lip and desire, a league is took
to christening- -I, too, hath passed that age!
so sickening to the bones, my love,
in thy diminished sense of being:
one more in hope to be Lord's serviceable men
under the burden of thy yoke, too dear,
e'ery living breath to passing years, agoing, agoing...

(C)Naveed Khalid

Copy Rights (C)2014.
All Rights Reserved.

Topic(s) of this poem: farmers

Form: Ars Poetica

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, August 14, 2019

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