A Prisoner of Eternal Adoration
By Fiza Pathan
Why do you tease me with the sun’s rays in my eyes,
When I want to hide in the shadow of my lover?
He despises my very presence,
But I can’t burn my incense, without his perfume fragrance.
My lover hates me and has wed my best friend;
What can I poor soul do, but lament day and night,
Over loves tragedy-my tragedy.
So young have I tasted the gall of the liver,
That my taste has deformed my enchanted world of sweet love for a traitor.
But it’s a fact of caring devotion to the broken statue of our demolished love,
That I still live in its crumbling ruins, and moan like the banshee of old.
So don’t you dare tease me, when I waltz alone through my own ruins,
For I am not the architect of destiny or fate.
Don’t tempt me oh my lover to curse your marriage,
After you have ruined my castle on the hill,
For shifting sands towards the sea of hell.
Do not oppress my existence with your unfaithfulness to our love of old,
With meshes of barbed wire stitched into my flesh to remind me
That I am now a prisoner of eternal adoration.
Copyright © 2014 by Fiza Pathan
Image Courtesy (for representative purpose)
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