Eager to erase
the gloom, I share
my wick with
a flaming match-stick,
and a fire engulfs
my very being.

The ordeal eats
me bit by bit as
I shed silent tears,
yet I’ve no fears
of the devilish dark,
for I can last till
the onset of dawn.

People will bask in
the light, come morn,
oblivious to my
ashen self.
A martyr who fought
obscurity will remain
obscure, unmourned.

Photo Courtesy

The Dawn Of Your Thoughts

On a wintry Islamabad

eventide, the clarity of

my mind was fogged

by the gloom, lurking

in the horizon

all the day long,

wary of the mighty sun,

waiting for it to depart.

Amid the rule of dark,

the golden countenance

of your thoughts

burst like a dawn,

splashed through

the curtains of

my numbed vision,

and the future looked

as resplendant

as an ever-lasting morn.

The Light Of Tears

Hopes exude en masse

when night befalls

the avenues of life.

The horizon mourns death

of the Sun wrapping itself

in a darkish shawl.

A million eyes inhabiting

the milky way peep down

through the dark,

crying like stars.

Spotting me here, a pair

descends steps of the air

in a hundredth of a second,

lending me what

my eyes require.

‘The dawn is silhouetted near’,

says the light of my tears.

Inspired by Mohsin Naqvi’s verse,

Mohsin taloo-e-ashk daleel-e-sahar tau hay,

shab kat gayee charagh bujha dena chahiye