Poetry

What is it?

 

 

It’s not the eerie silence that fills the space around me,
It’s not the stillness of the breeze I once used to float in,
It’s not the departed felicity that ran along with my breaths,
It’s not the steps retreating themselves to find joy instead,
It’s not the lost gentle tease of sunlight brushing my skin,
It’s not the dawn stealing away the moon, I spend my pulses watching which,
It’s not the absence of the letters joy used to write to me once,
It’s not the palm of my hands losing hold of serenity,
It’s not the colors and life running away from my scenery,
It’s not the return of the nothing I have always had with me,
It’s not the longing for life to stay with me,
It’s not the notion of me being a whisper that never was,
It’s not the heart bruised by unrequited sentiments,
It’s not the fear of losing what I never had,
It’s not the sojourn in this world so transient and short-lived,
It’s not living in the fallacy that holds me in its wings,
It’s not my words always mangling the peace of my heart,
It’s not my voice not being heard or misheard all this time,
It’s not the realization of “What is meant to be, will be”,
It’s not my ears not hearing any echo for so long,
It’s not the bullets fired from guns piercing my disguised skin,
It’s the fear of the demons, deep inside me which dwell,
It’s the fear of my demons tearing everything so dear I hold to myself.

 

 

Written by: Shahwar Malik

Institution: COMSATS

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