Untitled Poem # 12…

by Talha Minhas

The rain speaks
In the wildest dreams.
Across the shore,
It’s swept its thwart.
Why, what is the matter?
You’re so strong;
I am too fragile to bear your song.
Hope is not an option, no queer state of affairs.
She hides beneath that robe
Of death and despair.
Now, it’s turned into snow
And ice and flare,
Like balloons that fly with no intent
But with subtle Claire.
How could a human know your story
I have but my own share or two.
Sit with me by my side,
Hold your breath and sit tight.
The storm is out of bounds,
No morals apply.
Like my fatherland,
In his utter despise.
Holding my hands,
Those horrible clutching hands.
I feel unsafe, but divine.
Like a god that needs praise.
So sorry that you had to see this,
This monstrous intent.
There was no choice left,
But to feed this fidelity without direction.

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