Noon sun shone baking the roadside stones.
On my doorstep, a shadow fell motionless.
Torn was his clothes an unkempt being.
A voice so meek rose within his throat.
Laughed out loud my majestic guest,
Seated on the throne of my home in his lavish attire.
I turned towards the visitor deserting the stranger.
Honeyed words drowned me and I lost my eyes.
I became his eyes and ears and I unlocked my lips,
Only to praise him with devoted glory.
The drained stranger sat on a corner,
Reciting something, sturdy and calm.
He kept on saying the same thing over and over.
Sun passed and the moon passed but the outsider remained.
I fed him neither food nor water but he survived.
On cloak of darkness, I rendered my ears to his verses.
" I am the Truth; I am the Truth though I am ragged"
My blind eyes began to see the light out of the blue.
I revolved to see my guest now with distrust,
Remained there the Ugly LIE in his sumptuous attire.
Poem by Shameela Yoosuf Ali
2015 April 18
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem