Our Love and Life

It's raining, as I watch the rain
Drops, drip dropping against the
Window panes of my room.
I fold my hands like a Hindu,
In the temple of love and pray:
“May you hold my hand and trust
Your sweet love, again.”

Your love feels like a tooth ache,
On a midnight slumber.
“No, I won’t talk to you
About the old papery flowers,
I dropped at your closed door.”

The rain has stopped, and left
Behind the surface of silence.
"Come; let's sing of old days,
We spent on the shore of hope,
Together.”

What? What is now left in life?
“The scary stitches of time,
Stitched on my soft skin,
The darkness you planted
In the mud of my heart.”

There is a place where our egos
Don't clash and crash,
Where the whirlpools of our being,
Slightly melt into each other.
I, who sought you in my dreams,
Shall meet you there,
"Mad heart! Be brave!"

(Ashaq Hussain Parray)