Parray Shahid

That Secret Hour

Long, long shall my thoughts lean
Uptill that secret hour
The sacred array of moments
That, in time, have passed
But barely dulled
Lingering with pomp and pleasure
To my rather distilled memory palaces
And to the nothingness of every moment,
Bringing reprieve only
As on I toil from day to day
Wearing out life's evening grey.
Long shall my unsteady mind
In its feeble wanderings
Piercing, look back, each scene
O'er what you left behind
'Your taunts, a garden of mouthings'
'Eyes, coronal to her queenship'
'That scent, dilating circle after circle'
'The tainting touch, death to taste'
All this, enlarges my life, yet
With multitude of days in health
Though I see no bliss, no more the way
Wheresoever I turn my view
While my overburdened memory
Still hovers in lost pieces of time
Seeking yet its last repose in thee.

Topic(s) of this poem: age, epical, heartache, love and dreams

Poem Submitted: Monday, March 20, 2017
Poem Edited: Monday, March 20, 2017

Form: Lyric

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