the Book Unopened : 
song of Malahshahor

Our Elders have Spoken,
“Neglect is unforgivable.”
 

I was unhappy when you met me.
You saw it fit to meddle with tranquility.
Your bright lie glared, shone with impunity
into my hesitant, convalescent eye.
True, my solitude was borne of sadness
though even this with time became truth

Today I looked:
Half this life’s been spent in search of someone
someone to listen, I had hoped would be you
You saw it fit to wake me from slumber
to show me that the sun still shone
as I watched the stormclouds run
Later, you brought me the moon in your smile.

I am unhappier now that you’ve left me.
To have known that rare thing of beauty
what most are granted only once, as a blessing
You were my relief in this plague-stricken world
For once the rain meant something else 
other than a flood threatening the void to cleanse
The void that has become my own

A heart that has not learned
A love that was not earned
A lie too soon unfurled
A song that our lives mourn

If sadness turned from ignorance-in-purity
to the intimate unhappiness of knowing failure:
Then you have damned yourself in Heaven’s name
for tainting a heart that was weak from the start
But its weakness was borne of longing
Knowing thus you saw it fit to tear it apart.
What now of the promise that was never given?
Redemption 
lay distant from you,
after all that struggle
you still find yourself alone in the dark.


aghast ... der dunkle Engel, der verbrauchte mich

99 May 25
(c) copyright owned by Siddharta Somar


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