As If You Are Dying In A Slow Agony : A Short Poem

Winds blowing with an ocenic silence
Nothing seems to be worrying the withering leaves
Hell is not farther from the swelling guesses of soul's voice
Hungry autumn breathing solace into desiring heart
Harmony disguises you like a failing shadow
As if you are dying in a slow agony
The dreams are for ever bearing your pains
For ever it saves you from earthly predicament
Yet you fear of unsnapping your all dreams
No heavenly bliss can console you like a featherless bird
Thoughts of forbearance chasing your destiny
You remain as if the doors of God's glory are wide open.

As you rise from the ashes and ruins
As you step out from your sultry closet to a wider planet
The poles get apart for a moment's breath
The voice from the distant sky fades out in haste
Like a jumping sun scared of its own shadow
Your hunger can carry you no longer, no farther
Your desire has diminished you in a bubble of no consequence
On a platter of rhymes and verses you whisper your wishes
All setting sails on a rigorous journey following them
That will take them all to a wonderland of the ancien regime
Let your dreams play hide and seek with you
Your dreams will pass into the days and nights unto the last.