Father, Mother and Children
by Fiza Pathan
How can you state that I am insane?
What makes you want to press this untruth?
Watch how I can narrate to you a story so trivial
That will unleash a whirlwind of subconscious thoughts,
Within your very thick hide.
There was once a man being draped with a shadow he could not be rid of,
He blew it hither and tither till he could not do more.
He drowned himself therefore in a sublime bliss of accounts
From where he could see none of this foreboding silhouette.
While at work one day on numbers, this young soul beheld
A radiant beauty who completed his searching once and for all.
He became suitor to this fair lady
And courted her to many a heart rendering poem.
Never remembering the shadow so wrathful
That watched them gaze tenderly
Into each other’s honey clouded eyes.
By roping in a priest and a notary
This man wedded his love
On a cold full moon night.
The shadow follower was at his heels from then on,
Never was this couple ever happy again.
The spectral shadow first engulfed the man in its sham like self
To his wife he brought a misery such as only
The silence of agony can tell.
Yet to them were born twins of pallid hue
One was Nectar and the other was Blood.
The shifty shadow in its partial darkness was angered by this happy tiding,
It made the Father give away the pair to another’s care.
The man was so blinded by the shadow of his doom,
He threw out his woman with not even a thin-film of reason why?
Bore she the mantle of a widow while still so blossoming red
She nursed both off spring to maturity
Till one was kind and the other full of disdain.
The Mother noticing this change of heart,
Preferred much her dear Nectar to Blood’s angry cold heart.
Nectar grew into an angelic diva
Who courted a man daring to be by her side.
But unknown to young love was the hatred of that hellish curse,
The shadow came to live in the form of madness over poor dear Nectar.
Cried the Mother for the loss of her little child’s reason,
Bedridden in coma was this Nectar’s anguish filled sleep.
But lo and behold this was not to be the end,
Blood was still alive and the flow was running in spurts through her avenging veins.
She now bears the mantle to guard the soul who lies in repose,
Until that cursed shadow is destroyed that dared to come at her door.
Now here is the riddle if you may,
See for yourself what no one else can believe.
Who stands in fashion of a girl before your eyes?
Why is it Blood that nourished the honeycomb of your world when the Nectar is in swoon?
Shiver shadow so cowardly to come forward upon the scarlet hue so rageful,
You shall be swallowed by none other but by your iniquity.
Wait patiently then till that white sunrise is brought about by your demise,
Let the transfusion till then of Blood continue
Till all is one Father, Mother and children yet again.
Copyright © 2013 Fiza Pathan
Image courtesy: Google Images
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