Loathing

By Md Farhan Khan

Never did the benevolent light  

Of love shine upon mine soul of filth,  

The cleansing I wanted.  

Filled with spots and rots  

As I went away, swaying and dancing  

In the tearing breeze as it tears  

Through my skin to take away  

A piece of my soul—  

For this was the only cleansing I got,  

And deserving was my part in it.  

Burnt not by the flame of warm love  

Or that of anger—  

It was the loathing born  

In the eyes of those who saw me  

That finished the last part  

To my rotten soul.  

In the end, it was the wind  

Tearing my soul  

That made me feel loved,  

As in wanted by something,  

And someone,  

Even through all the wicked  

I have done  

To those close to my heart,  

Whom, as I look to—  

Are void of anything except a shadow,

Of a forgotten beautiful past.  

A past that, felt like a dream

A dream of things I wanted-

 To be the one wanted,

Light on my dead face,

And the chime of smiles.

Still, I fear the sounds-

The ones those come from the mouth 

Of none other than hate’s child-

A look into whom, carries my features,

Built  part by part,  even the loathing eyes-

Face of a dead man and oh the disgusting smile-

They hate me- every word- 

Breaks me, Tears me-

So they fulfill the purpose of cleansing 

By tearing the filthy parts of mine remaining ,

Crushing with nothing but words 

And a disgusted look.

By Md Farhan Khan