Poetry

By Waheed

If only silently falling snowflakes could

resonate with the pain that

my heart feels with the silent sighs

that speak in the silence of the night;

Flakes pile up into layers of frozen life,

like desperation and broken sobs speaking of agony of a forsaken land;

If these could only write the language

of my heart in a land where

denial and dejection and treason is ruling

from hundreds of years, where

the wild wolves rip apart the innocent souls everyday, where the hounds

snatch the babies from the bossoms of mothers, where

drooping shoulders coffin young sprouted seeds, half matured about;

Cruelties of land where

hunting whales crush the little ones

with powerful jaws with big laughter of arrogance, where

eyes swell up with silent tears,

dead speak of the love and honour

and death, of resistence and hope;

And mighty arrogant structures—

As if they have to live forever on this earth,

As if they have to tread in these lands forever,

As if they have to drink and eat forever,

As if they have slurped the elixir of life,

As if my prayers will never be answered,

and my sacrifices will never be rewarded;

As if the chest of the mother will not get congested

with the innocent bodies of its children,

As if the winds of the land, the rays of the sun,

the leaves of the trees, the birds of the sky

will never mourn to call upon the heavens for its Mercy!

If only these could know the pain it gives

to trees and the humans with the breaking

of branches and homes by the weight,

these would paint this earth Crusted Crimson Red.

By Waheed