The Pebbled Street


London at best tonight – shrouded in fog reminds me of the old English classics read long time ago in Pakistan. Silence, serenity and chaos.

The old alley that leads to its distance
Stands there an empty stare
You never came that way
Do not be afraid, do not be perturbed
I am not a dream or a ghost within your mould
Only a thought, only a whisper
Only the fear, only the opium
Surrounded within its reminders
The old adventures that remain undiscovered
Characters of your youth
Lost in this mist, lost to this world
As the whistling train leaves its station
Hear the clunkering winds
The cling clang of the tortured soul
Diffused light across its pole
The old invitation to the civilised world
Says the empty stare, the broken mosaic
I once was in the desert, the happy lagoon
Now you have brought me here, for the dreamer’s snare
Says the trampling shadow
“I cannot decipher the language of heart”
You brought me here, from the ancient lands
The empty stare from the golden dust.
The residents in me
The silence of the winds
As I walk across that pebbled street
In perfect peace and its serenity
Frozen chaos, in bewildering scream
Not a dream or ghost within your mould
Says the empty stare
Only the whisper that carries your soul

AK 2.11.2015

KASHKIN

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