Image by Leo Chane

Existence. Demise. Existence. Forever.


People try to be comic for a while,

But I laugh because he claims I make him smile.

Cause' I know he always tells these lyrical lies,

Like stealing stars for me from the skies.

He says his love is undying,

But for it, he is too short lived.

Even more short lived are the promises.

He will soon want these moments unlived.

He relishes my beauty.

Oh lord! Tell him this too is fugacious.

He believes in forever, he believes in poetry,

Tell him all this is fallacious.

O! Tell him forever does exist.

But also, forever can’t be lived through.

Does he not know the mountains will collapse?

Has he never read the true?

Tell him this will fade;

His poems and his love.

He will live better if he had prayed,

In a place much better, above.

This period of existence is not to be cherished for long.

End is when you’ll wake up to the trumpet instead of a balmy bird song.

He knows much poetry,

I believe he knows the heaven.

He just keeps lying to me and himself,

Since, he thinks there’s time to deaden.

Time! Ah! It's altogether an interesting forever.

Each moment lived, in the next, feels like never.

He denies eternity, he believes forever is on earth.

But he does believe destiny is tied since birth.

His beliefs are in pieces.

Tell him, this isn’t a poetry I write.

Tell him, there is less time to live,

But there’s always time to make it right.

Yes, there is an existence after death.

Yes, death is not the end.

But tell him, afterlife is not meant to be together.

Tell him he will overlook me after the ascend.

Tell him, to stop filling me in poetries.

Tell him, to stop promising me stars.

Tell him, to not put me in damage

Tell him, not to give me scars.

Tell him to stop, it’s miserable to hold in.

This is what my forever is.

Tell him, for me forever isn’t calm,

Tell him, for me the love isn’t balm,

If I tell him, he won’t listen.

Instead, he would get me with words that glisten.

I plead, tell him, I am holding in for good.

Tell him he is different, I can’t do what he would.

I try to not read his poetries.

It takes me forever to come out.

Tell him my forever isn’t glittery,

Tell him, I am now a devout.


-Mohsina Khan

 

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