The Angel

It is not the thundering,
But like the lightning,
That you came in my life
And made it glittering,
Having a sway upon
The darkening, bleeding heart
Of frustration and grief,
Proceeded by the unseen,
Unuttered pangs of being hurt
For innocent love,
That lost its nerve
For that ungrateful dove!

It is not the youthful hue
On my skin,
But like that of the
Gentle dew
On the grass,
That you came
With a freshening view
Of faith and affection,
And made me new!

In the silence
Of you dark eyes,
I got the confession of
Thousand times as bees,
For giving me honey
With hours and days sunny!

Again my heart benumbed
With the joy of
The rainbow and the
Multi-colored butterflies,
Ornamented with the vastness of the sky,
And the unnamed, unknown
Far away stars reigning,
Those remain the same
Caring a fig for
The riddles of the world
Which feel shame
On being exposed by
The innocent face.

Like a single drop of rain,
You quenched
The thirst of a swallow
Ike me,
That was passing by the sea,
But could not drink
For the content salty.
Please do not go,
That I again feel lonely
In the thousand men’s rows
Of hypocrisy and treachery.
_

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