Unfelt Poem by S.anas Hussain (altair)

It's always there, too close, too much.
The shape of something I can't touch.
The sprit of demons filled with lust.
The paths I travel are filled with dust.
Heart which bleeds are filled with trust.
Where the hound cried in battle rush.
Feared to the cry which no heart's touch.
Heard those screams with my ears.
It was dark, it filled my heart with fear.
I saw my death coming to me, as it was near.
I turned back to my heart and saw my dear.
As she was the one for whom I tear.
And it took me, I left the world I was sever.