I Don’t Know

The tears of longing are still afresh in the orbs
Who is involved in the massacre of dreams, I don’t know.
Like a moth around a flame, she singed her soul.
and kept on dying a hundred deaths in search of the lost.
The bruises explain the torment the paths gifted her
Who is involved in the plunder of her innocence, I don’t know.
The cuckoo has been lamenting the delay of spring
The cool Breeze too is in grief and in long wait.
The sullen sun seems to be sick and gloomy
Who is involved in the depredation, I don’t know.
The moon with eyes oozing out the pain and agony
Still screams to let her bosom free of turbulence
The craters dig the graves to bury their ugliness
Who is involved in the ferocity, I don’t know
The pangs of separation laugh madly on me
A monster of anxiety comes to scare me.
Cuddle myself in the warmth of grief
Who is involved in my destruction, I don’t know.
The stars aloof too seem to grieve
The gushing waters too stop to hold me
Like a fanatic I cry to mourn the loss
Who is involved in the ruins, I don’t know.
He is a magic wand, with just a bye
Spoiled my inner peace and happiness
My soul is stuck now in the thorny grip
Who is involved in the betrayal, I don’t know.
~Shah Bisma Manzoor
Bijbehara, India

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