Below here is my first experiment with something of a ghazal form in English; I am not much aware of the nuances of ghazal writing in English but am excited about it being the first draft 🙂

What is wrong with your memory O’ Mardan
You’ve ceased to be my sanctuary O’ Mardan

I, the frost-bitten of a heart am often numb
Your warmth is my therapy O’ Mardan

Your ruins define you more than your buildings
Would you please change your story O’ Mardan

Your days are dour and blinding dusty
Yet your nights are twinkling starry O’ Mardan

Your bazaars hammer me with cacophony
For my heart you are a tranquil melody O’ Mardan

Writing Sans You

without you being the muse
is the vanity
of breathing
away from gravity –
the lungs gasping out loud
for oxygen.

bereft of the red pigment
of love
without touching the heart;
bound in the yoke
of your apathy
they cant have their say
as they remain