Deflated sun,
deflated moon,
wandering stars,
silent mayhem,
still chaos,
within and without.
She keeps busy,
knows the art,
of doing so,
but I, the pilgrim,
cannot just sit,
or fret for work,
just in an effort,
to keep myself 'busy'.
The sky is quiet,
Yet lightning flashes,
I see her distinctly,
but cannot touch her...
(Written and posted by Muhammad Naveed Ahmed/Emmenay on May 22, 2011). All copyrights of poems written by the author belong to him.

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