Contretemps


Time has halted as if it never moved in thy shadow’s grin…
Every second seems a year taking me closer to the graves inn… 
Busy was my childhood playing with shades so relent…
Not knowing about my ripening that it was to prevent… Growing and growing kept I in the midst of timely gusts… 
And the little child in me began to fade in the worldly lust… 
Trying hard to reserve it in my bossoms fret… 
Lost my hand over it in the Times woven set… 
Poor soul kept searching for the child so benign ..
But couldn’t find it as it was overtaken by the night… 
The night so dark could be beseeched even though… 
But the child so pure stood there and refused to come to the fro… 
In the world so mean and empty to the brim.. 
The child stood benighted in thy shadow’s grin…. 
Away from me and making me alone… World changed colours which my senses sensed soon… Too hard was it to rely on the appearances…. 
Which seemed mere apparels to be changed soon… 
Came the voice from the shadows so thick… 
That I am still innocent to every bit.. 
My soul felt relieved To hear the voice that called… 
For innocence was still around in the world so mauled….

By Iffat Jehan.


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