Steve Sheikh


The Last Poem - Poem by Steve Sheikh

The hopes departed with yesterday
The sorrows arrived today
The fears are coming tomorrow

Yesterday she was my lady, I was her hero
She was the universe, I was her moon
We shared a dream, we had a vision

I lived for her, I worked for her
After a hard day's toil I'll rush home to her
We will hug, we will kiss
We will chat, we will laugh
Being with her was religion
I hated the trip that took me away
I loved the road that brought me back

On many Eden days we rode into the sun
Two lovers set free in paradise
We followed the streams
Watched the deer and migrant birds
We climbed mountains and slept on grass
Autumn painted the hills bright and warm
Reflecting the glow of her beautiful face
Winter rendered them pure and white
Reflecting the angels in her soul

The spring was eternal, the skies were blue
The gentle breeze swayed the spirit
The ethereal perfume pervaded the air
Happiness spread through the fields
My World drowned in her expansive eyes
My senses surrendered to her sweet embrace

Then we had friends, good times to have
Good people we knew, good people who cared
We shared lots of joy, conquered occasional sorrow
We raved about a simple dish
Hyped a bottle of cheap wine

Life was happy, times were good
We were blessed, The Gods were kind

Out of nowhere came a storm
Could be winter could be fall
Don't remember, don't care to know
Darkness fell; the World is black
The raging roar drowned the words
I couldn't hear hers
She didn't understand mine

Paradise was lost; Hell was found
Yesterday's blessing has turned to curse
I wonder why, I have no clue
No one can tell me, no one will ever know

Surrounded by many I'm still alone
The heart is heavy, the head is light
The night is rife with demons old and demons new

In the silence of my soul
I can hear the howl of a faraway wolf
The aimless burrowing of the earthworm
The last gasp of a stranded whale
The footsteps of fear, the eerie knock of fate
The clouds approach, the night is near
The tears are here, the heart is sad
The moon is mad, the Gods in rage

The sad poem is on its final verse
My soul is empty, my pen is dry
This is the perhaps the last poem I'll ever write about her

(Thank you Pablo for the curtain fall)


Poet's Notes about The Poem

The story of my life too long to tell.

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, May 24, 2012

Poem Edited: Friday, May 25, 2012


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