Yet one more day,

In this dreaded city:

The ghosts of night,

Have melted away,

The villains of daytime,

Have sprung back to life;

I and my grieving heart,

Seek refuge once more,

Away from all,

In a secluded corner -

- My own quiet world.

Cigarette after cigarette,

Absorbs my hidden pain,

Puff after puff,

Soothes me like rain -

Falling gently on parched land.

The woman in the TV,

Tries to cheer me up,

With her wide wide smiles,

In the Breakfast Show,

With her cajoling guiles.

All night long,

I kept on searching,

Kept seeking everywhere,

Peace, solace and joy,

But it was all in vain.

Even after sixty years,

This city has no light,

But the Breakfast Show woman,

Says life is bright!

Vain discourses,

Over trivial matters,

May interest the fools,

Who love wasting time,

I draw the curtains,

And hum Au Sangwyne.

Let them go to hell -

- That's where they are going,

Why fret or pine!

Let me fly upwards,

Where no fool can find me,

Higher and higher,

In sky's caress.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Composed on March 5, 2008, in Karachi.

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palewingedpoetess's picture

such pain so beautifully expressed. It made me wonder how many others exist in the wreckage of their own silent reverie.Likely more than we could ever imagine. Blessedly those who do not find peace while walking upon the earth do so when they die and what a release that must be. So many in such pain do damage to others or to themselves I am glad you took the high road and instead wrote some beauty painful as it was out of the aching and emptiness you were living with then. I hope your now not being so alone and feeling so abandoned by love and life doesn't diminish in any way your extraordinary grasp on the blend of talent for the written word and life experience. From what I have read so far, is fair to say that has not happened. Love has only recharged, rejuvenated and restored the depth and beauty minus all those painful feelings of fruitless searching. As Sinatra once sang
you make my heart smile.
you know why type it? lol.