Untold Throes Poem by Shumail Hassan

The scintillating agony,
That makes my self hark on the horizons, Of pessimistic skies;
The squally mind, again
deserts me for a moment,
Within which,
I was smugged, not listening to it
And, reined in to heart then.
While, being alone now.
I cry, I cry,
Mourning for not listening to it
The latest whiff of life, poured by heart is being wiped away with the tears
That life echoing within, swamped
The silent moment steals on it
the lastest sad stint,
The sputtering coughs, weeps!
The pathos is what is for ever now.
These moment-long stints,
With the dread of long gally nights,
Remain for ever in the mental murk
The time we're happy, they lurk,
To remind us of this, while in skulk.