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#Poetry ‘Run Away Lover’ by Fiza Pathan

May 22, 2013

Run Away Lover

by Fiza Pathan

Cast away this symbol of love from my eyes,

I was a human being just born to die.

Not to live the life of your lover,

I’ve got to fulfill an unmentionable

Demonic quest in the labyrinth of agony.

People are begging me to cure the form upon their eyes,

The scum of hunger beats the life out of them.

I have to lead a life of service,

I cannot cling to anyone’s shoulders.

The ways of the suitor I cannot digest,

I vomit all your words of desire

In one word of hate.

The black god with serpentine claws

Are feeding upon the helpless.

Can’t you see a wail overcasts my sky of peace.

This filthy gutter is my cool stream,

From which I rinse up issues long suppressed

With the aid of verses.

Why don’t you find another lover?

I live in the oven of the capitalists raging hell.

Can’t you see that I really don’t need you?

But alas you are too dim to observe

This invisible light of Satan’s halo.

I can’t sleep at nights while all around me are in distress,

Innocents are dying like rats while rat faced men

Plague us with a vague social famine.

The world has heated up boy

Can’t you feel the heat of fire scorching the vulture

Before he can chew upon a malnourished bone.

I need to flush out a worm of lies,

That is living on the flesh of lusty wants.

This is my goal towards the lowest abyss,

It cannot be taken up by a weak heart.

I’ve swallowed the heated coal right

Down into the throat of my speech.

With swords of anguishing scream will I exorcise,

This menace from the temple of the bright sun.

I need to erase your presence from this misery,

Go back into the glowing chapel before my

Nemesis seizes you by the neck and casts you

Into my reverie forever more.

I am the pilgrim of the molten lava,

That melts into my hollow chest cavity,

Filling me with enough of fuel for this game

Of men and the revolutionary dice.

A reformation is under way.

Young lamb of mine before you are

Roasted upon the spittle return

To the Lord of the seven heavens.

There shall be a holocaust of sinners soon,

The orphan who moans will now laugh

As this bard dives into the dirt of corruption.

There will be crosses erected upon Golgotha again,

Many will be impaled as martyrs,

While others will remain as pregnant whores.

The judgement of my vengeance is coming closer

So flee away while there is still yet time.

Before this dawn sinks into an eclipse of oblivion,

Flee my loved one towards the hills.

Copyright © 2013 by Fiza Pathan


From → Uncategorized

  1. painful hurt and yet a lover .. I always find pain and love and retaliation.. in your charmingly melancholy … verses .. they are a part of me .. suppose i tombed inside long back 🙂

    • Thank you for the kind words. They say there are two types of pain in the world ; one that hurts you & the other which makes you stronger……but they forgot another type of pain……the pain that haunts you. 🙂

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