This Muse I Must Pour
Through the battered gaps of an old obscure, unlatched door
Shattering silences of ages, my initials scribbled on a lost letter,
Enveloped in pang, in efforts of wordlessness staring lost expressions
In the blankness of a white, folded carelessly screaming in silent sob
In treasures of saline, drawn and dissolved images of a torment throb
Someone been thinking in words, speaking lines of thought on paper
Someone has choked in emptiness, held to hope by these crumpled edges
Fragrances of affection held by the bosom, a longing torn, hoped, retained
And then reflections of affection became a torrent, moist poured into notes
Unwritten notes stirring a ballad, thoughts and letters embossed in amour
Some echoes resonate in infinitude; some muse can only speak from a heart
In the vastness of this unwritten word, my confines are lost, boundaries erased
As a silent night burns to ache, my flickers shall live, this muse I must pour
poem by Saadut Hussain
Added by Poetry Lover
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