A Cry from Fool’s Paradise

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               A Cry from Fool’s Paradise

 

A loner I am, who trod chalked paths, my own,

In verdure and bloom, I had my passions grown,

Living in paradise of my own, ah bigoted I grew,

A tangled mind, on the time’s altar I myself slew.

 

Of an awesome deception, was born and risen,

Fond sights and cloying dreams, was my prison,

Raising my idols, I had awfully glittered bright,

The gilt’s décor around, I’d raised an ideal sight.

 

I’d lived my universe, full of bloom and scents,

Stumbling leisurely, I opened my hearts vents,

Founts played my fancy, ah I fanned my desire,

Fortune would smile on me, for lifetime entire!

 

My illusionary garden, scents to strew around,

And the busy bees will, on the nectar abound,

Colourful flora, petals decked with beady dew,

Thru crystal prisms, spectrums of pearl’s hue!

 

Nestled on supple shoots the birds to warble,

Their heaving breasts, as white as the marble,

Siphoned melodies; will fan my passions wild,

To the beauteous glamour, I might be restyled.

The chanting songs. hadst bustled my life,

The glamorous raptures had sounded rife!

Colorful butterflies hadst hovered around,

My gaze astray, to the beauty firmly bound.

 

My nights were sweet and balmy, stately lit,

In lambent light of ‘morrow, my future writ,

Were it the mirage, the disguise, or the lure?

I fell into a misfortune; how to seek its cure?

 

Those red orbs have faded without a beam,

To my dwinding heart, benighted they seem,

A night ends not, and never a dawn to break,

Heavens firmly bent, the vengeance to wreak.

 

Now bereft of my eyes, I wouldn’t ever read,

Shorn of legs, the new paths I wouldn’t tread,

Beclouded with the stately glamor of mirage,

The hurt is done; no cause to fume and rage!

 

Love not, flares of youth and charm of wealth,

A lesson tutored, a heist on talent, by stealth!

I wonder, why the dismal rituals be replayed?

“I’m the wronged,” I’ll honour time, not flayed!


By Dr. Riaz Ahmad, November 9, 2025

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