But All Must Be Endured

 

But all must be endured, since even a poor

soul too is made of fire and ice-

while a part of me gets dismantled in silence

the other half keeps gathering my shards to

       go on living.

 

My frenzied heart seeks the god mesmerized

by your honeyed words-

I hold my tongue that craves to expand its hood

       at mere sight of you-

 

your tinkling laughter at sweet nothings

sets my voice to fume;

yet I compel it to devour a sacred silence

      to burst forth in words later-

 

While you make the god to look into your eyes

a flame in me runs wild

to dip my spirit into a black fluid; to make

      your god my muse-

 

My poem is a response to Sappho’s apparently incomplete poem : In my eyes he matches the gods

 

 

 

Posted for Sanaa’s Wild Friday @ Poets United

Advertisements