The wax of my life’s candle has melted
and I find myself utterly incapable of reconstruction.

Childhood traumas drone over my head:
my unhealed wounds bandaged with makeshift dressings.
Watch me attempt to replenish the veil of my hope
and fill this heart with alluring tenderness again.

You had whispered once:
“You possess no other skill but to douse in love, 
anyone and everyone – angels or enemies.”

But love is better, more peaceful 
than the thirst for vengeance
that Heathcliff nurtured till his death:
you will be left with nothing.

In the messy trench where hearts are hurled,
on closer inspection, you will find 
my quixotic heart floating too;
screaming 
weeping
struggling.

Which pyre will be suitable to roast all the letters
penned and glued with the costliest adhesive in town
by a renowned scrooge, only for you?

I can share with certainty, you will declare this piece
as another puerile work of poetry.
Even though you’re an egregious liar,
we’re finally on the same page here.

Look at which forlorn juncture,
we’ve both agreed for the very first time.

Author

Afra Ahmad is a writer, poet, artist holding a great passion for Arabic calligraphy. Based in Saudi Arabia, she is pursuing bachelors in English Literature. She writes about everything under the sun: from dark issues of the society to problems faced by Muslims to spreading Deen through her spiritual stories, poems, and write-ups. Her works have been published in various magazines including Blue Minaret, The Hearth magazine, Iman collective, Rather Quiet

7 Comments

  1. It’s a heartfelt piece, loved reading it.

    “Which pyre will be suitable to roast all the letters
    penned and glued with the costliest adhesive in town
    by a renowned scrooge, only for you?”

    Oh, how this burns!

Write A Comment