Clouded Verses

    We write the lyrics
    of the song we wish
    Our hearts could have freely
    sung, refrain and chorus
    to the eyes and hands
    That refused to meet.
    alto and soprano:
    The voices shattered
    like unnerving hymn.
    We bank on blankness
    and wish there is more,
    And wish there is more…
    Black and white –
    The first kiss
    a tug of war
    of our adjustments – in and out.
    Sleep is a gift, a very special gift.
    It comes at our doorsteps; most often,
    It does not.
    The windows create a shadow, a lining
    We wait at the back
    trying to make sense of
    what we hear and see
    How else could this blankness
    be possible?

    The door swept open
    revealing the day’s fortune
    or the lack of it.

    * * *

    In 22 days

    We shall
    never become
    False witnesses
    To anyone’s
    testimony of
    Righted wrong,
    nor shall
    We be
    partners of
    Cranes, Mixers,
    against the
    bearer of
    Today’s news,
    as we
    Expect to
    see the
    Day in
    the light
    We must
    carry on
    The bulk
    of the
    Cursed history
    marked on
    this earth.

    Never shall
    we miss,
    The 22
    days allotted
    For the
    running over.
    That we
    must finish.
    It is
    an order.
    An order
    must be
    Finished no
    matter what
    Age, time,
    gender, and
    Religion in
    22 days.



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