The Ghost like afterthoughts

On watching life from close distance

there returns a memory of all I had managed behind,

after chaffing was separated, I think again.

to pause and say hello as harbinger of good luck,

or though flesh traded for a six pence or so in a lively market in Kabul,

I return as hero to my homeland,

There is naivety in believing words could do wonders,

and there is complain in words that you sound naive.

 

On the threshold of emotion I beseech to love my lover,

and there is no dearth of emotion but a cabaret dance is,

suffice for notification that indeed I love like a tiger.

 

The lion had fled the jungle only to be caught in the web,

of animal poacher and there is half baked smile to let go,

all the atrocities upon the soul, I am kind and bid a romantic,

silence as to know the universe.

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