Monday, January 2, 2012


Like an eerie presence,
the child within me,
cried to sleep,
disheveled, with naked longing
for pacifism,
and everything sweet.
In depths of longing,
and prolonged agitation,
like a burning house,
upon an isolated hill,
like the misfit wailing out,
his dreams of fitting in.
Like the cluttering crevices,
abound with bottomless pain.
Inhaling a life of ashes,
this sleep does not amount to peace,
when thou hath said,
that distance is a sweeter gain,
the heart took its leap,
and sunk to affliction.
It took to the pen, thus,
"Distant dreams,
spewing grief,
of lovelorn tales
and violent mèlés."
And thus, the pain began to gather dust,
as another heart withered away.


aakash said...

what's life without the pain..
embrace it, let if die a natural death :)

Meher, reading u after so long.. and lucky I am that I could.. take care


Ovais said...

Pain began to gather dust <3
I love your poem.
I would love to read more, if you've written any.

Eon Heath said...

Hey Gal,
here after a long time...and that old feeling is back...the way you write...
beautiful. beautiful. a good read after a long time..