Disillusioned

                    Disillusioned

 

Engrossed and pensive I’d roamed alone;

Amidst barrens and wilderness unknown,

Hunger stricken ah with panic overcome,

I craved for the heart with empathy some.

 

I knew naught who I were? What to become,

I tried singing aloud but silence was my hum,

Traversing foggy labyrinth, I’d rambled astray

Murkier than night were the luster of my day!

 

In the depths of insanity dwelled my insight,

A spark flashed alas ‘twas doused with fright,

Tears welled up in my eyes but furtively dry,

A volley of questions, and I heaved the sigh.

 

A finger moved yonder and had a word writ,

I sneaked closer and had it deciphered a bit,

Reckless storms chastised my aberrant mind,

Sobriety lost and with inebriety I was twined.

 

I was hushed; I never chased shadows or glory,

Someone failed me aye ’tis the forgotten story,

I’ve no craving, no appetite, the strong or weak,

Hopes tall, passions high, and outlook was bleak

 

A sanctuary; I were weighed down by thoughts,

My mind was overwrought and whipped in lots;

I conjured up things but alas a phantom scared,

In my calm slumber who’d the nightmare bared?

 

I displayed neither wealth nor the pomp of kings,

But that of a nomad, cruelly tethered with slings,

Awfully incarcerated in ascetic penal of my muse,

Manacled and fettered; I loafed amidst my blues.

 

Vanities and conceit had encircled me times three,

Ever free to exercise ceaseless caprice towards me,

Voices wert obliterated, once beloved thence fatal,

Drowned in half tones, bent upon the fierce battle!

 

I’d often borne the judgment of the cruel arrogant,

Love hostile! The onslaughts could fatigue a tyrant;

The inimical track of love never went soft and calm,

An avowal of the hurting stabs; I’d yearned to balm. 

The disguise had grown and my vision had faltered,

Dimensions had changed and perspectives altered,

’Twas no trifling but the wound inflicted very deep,

In its dark abyss I were enwrapped in eternal sleep!

 

And assured; the veiled phantasm of my blissful times,

The lively glances, varying hues ah I’d burnt in rhymes,

My sweet and somber muse was consecrated by death,

Alas there was neither waking light, nor scented breath.

 

By DR. Riaz Ahmad  

October 25, 2025