Sinless Birch

An empty church, A lonely bride

A mourning cross, A heart that died.

Look deep in the pool; A sinner still lives,

Tears ooze out, A love still brews.

.

Blessed with the mark of destiny’s whip,

He lived a prisoner of the sinking ship.

She gave him freedom, he aspired it not

Cursed silver from the pious lot.

.

Death was near, it always was

To claim the soul, fulfil it cause

But it came so late, lost in shade,

Boon or bane, the miseries of fate.

.

For foolish feelings rolled in time,

They both swam in the river of lime.

Call on to the hand that writes all plays

To justify this act where tragedy stays.

.

To give them freedom and moments and hope

And push them slightly of the slope.

To give them love, A dream, A day;

Then shatter all that, like a castle of clay.

.

Amidst the journey he eloped with death,

An aesthetic agony is love shibboleth.

She weeped in vain, her soul in pain,

Brumal grim of a fiendful rain

.

The rays of hell, scatter by heavens lens

Seemed so sour, her convalescence

The weary wish, ebbed and glazed,

Across the faith, her vision dazed

.

This much is the story and for that sinless birch,

A lonely bride and an empty church.

From: 
Asim Rafiq Mulla




Asim Rafiq Mulla's picture

ABOUT THE POET ~
Brought up in Karwar, a small town in Karnataka, India, Asim Mulla is the new coming of age poet who takes you a step closer to base human emotions.


Last updated October 16, 2015