Frail nature of time restrains the life,
And conceals the heavenly wine,
Of love from the soul.
Words of wisdom in solitude,
Haunt the reality day and night,
And shouts, despair fades thy faith,
When sorrows paint thy words dull.
A rose plant grief wedged, despairs,
The scarlet flower`s colorful facade,
And petals lament a silent lamentation,
Over the scentless garden.
Nowhere in garden is heard,
The sweet warble of nightingale,
And merry of garden nowhere seen,
While gardener guards the wealth.
Here flash the tempests violently,
And weakly he chases the destiny,
Dimly visible in mind`s darkness.
The wild tides that support the sail,
Too seem replicating,
The motionless nature of time`s idleness,
And rains from sky mutely fall,
A despair-provoking scene, it is indeed.
Frail humanity evokes the mystic grief,
Heap by heap I burdened myself like a thief.
Why not cherish a dream my grave-mates?
Why not relish the life with good deed?
Why not work for new-rise of dawn?
It`s time to make evil an inspiration for good,
Prisoner is you, calaboose is you,
Hush-hush! Conspiracy, too, but you!
Sarkar, my Sarkar! I feel won`t,
Allow to bail you out!
© 2017 Shafqat Mushtaq