Your Struggles

I saw you struggle in the lonely wind

From the window, through the door.

I saw the scribbled scars on your face,

And the storm of tears breaking before.


And I saw you screaming in the alley,

And rattling the locks of the mighty fort;

Praying with your beautiful eyes anon,

To stay afloat on the moth-eaten boat.


And I saw the sun turning murky black,

And fear creeping into your blue cloak.

I saw your screams cutting through the horizon,

Your body crawling through powder and smoke.


But I also heard the tired sun complain

About the salty liquid, the tough scars,

And the incessant tug of your soft hands

At the wind as it rose below the stars.


And the wind became a storm of sand.

But I saw your will melt the fortress bar,

And the dying boat land on a land

Beside the ranches, across the marsh.


And then I saw you fall like a house

Made of tiny twigs and shiny cards.

But with grace and elegance you fell

As the wild wind ran and charged.


And then I saw them meet in the midst-

The wind, the sand, the smoke and the stars.

And they talked and argued striking their fists,

And shrieked and groped like a ghoulish guitar.


And then they looked towards you and said:

That men will keep falling like burnt embers;

But the fall is not much to be written and read,

His struggle is what they must remember.


About Zeeshan

We are the twinkle in the eyes of oblivion.


  1. themonumentaljackass

    What a lovely, lovely poem.

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