A Poem Of My Wife For Me / Poem by Ayub Khawar

Poem by Ayub Khawar


A Poem Of My Wife For Me

The sleep is annoyed,
At blind, dumb and black night
How sleep should come,

Amid the sleep and dream,
In each crease of the bed
The whisper of each moment,
Sweet and sour, of the past age haunts me.
How sleep should come,

In the ease of horrifying empty house,
Like loosened leaves from the branch,
In the boredom of drab yellow days.
How sleep should come,

The channels of fate lines are drying,
And falling from the palms of my hands
One by one.
How sleep should come,

The visitors inquire after you.
Each and every item of the home,
Wrapping themselves in the blanket
Of silence, keep sitting, looking at me;
Kids go their beds if they feel sleepy
But I, like an unjustified weight
Remain on sofa for hours and hours
Till late at night.
In case I doze off, I dissolve into coldness
Of the icy sill of aloofness,
From inside flows through veins
A blue fountain of the pain of separation,
And each moment of the oncoming age,
Stares at the open door of the threshold.

Oh! My soul mate,
When you will come back
When you will be able to unchained
The shackles of chores.

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