His eyes closed,tears dripping profusely
hands clasped, heart pounding a bit,
I could sense his lips too wanted to say
But what was it that i failed to decipher.

From the window of my coffin,
My soul,gazed at the wails,
Every cry pleaded me to stop.
My journey was,but over .
My final destination and a long rest.

Tell him

The thorns of sincere deceit,
the poker of dethroned trust
finally hit me to attack my soul.
Heaps of undelivered letters i left.

The silent rose outside my parlour
must be despondent and dejected.
Hand over one of the letters to him.
Tell him to paint it with his parting smile.

I lie in peace-bedecked by the rosemary petals,
the astar dancing gleefully with me.
I can see you from above,resting calmly
an attractive smile,like an idyllic breeze.
©Shah Bisma