Come the way you like, <br />I have abhorrence from dreams <br />and wings that you do not have <br />but come on wings. <br /> <br />Carry some goblets filled with ash of bones, <br />some scratched earth from the hollow balls of skulls <br />someone who had eaten up both the eyes; <br />on the cold footnotes of graves <br />touch the toes for some tinkling sensation. <br /> <br />My kisses on your face has the burdens <br />of some funerals and these tears <br />from your eyes speak so much <br />to mourn about. <br /> <br />The dark green bottle that carries the genie <br />walks in slow spirits to boost <br />its cask has invented from the death of sugar <br />some juices from the autumnal fruits. <br /> <br />The water without taps and without confines, <br />my hands on my sides grow <br />letting go the walls <br />to breathe <br />to breathe <br /> <br />In the crisp white sheets on the bed <br />O angel of death! <br />behind the thicket of curtains <br />the sun did not bring hope <br /> <br />I said come flying <br />without wings. <br /> <br />Islamabad <br />July30,2010<br /><br />Sadiqullah Khan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/without-wings-3/
