Farewell

Abraham Junaid

Farewell - Illustration for Abraham

Thrice that week the shadow dawned
And turned out naught but curtain-sway.
She peered once more, now withdrawn;
No diamonds in the Milky Way.
A silent string of pearly flies
Slung along in rows of four,
Go to-and-fro her rusty door,
Illuminating the starless sky.

Along her hallway, termites ticked,
The stairwell missed chunks of wood;
All forlorn in that neighbourhood,
A footstep near the bed-door clicked.
The low moon snug behind her lawn And cast a shadow thwart the tree;
But soon after, the moon was gone
To dark clouds, roaming purpose-free.

A greyish light embraced her Shawl,
First of morning, with the sun veiled:
The well-lit blaze had all but failed
To penetrate the cloud-filled Wall.
The shadows’ now hidden away, Replaced with sounds of gloomy birds
Which almost sound like spoken words;
None more than vibrant disarray.

She wept as sunlight spread galore,
She wept till sundown came and left;
She wept till night, and then some more,
Her eyes desiccated, her soul bereft.
The low moon once again she’d see,
Anonymously pouring dimmer lights;
Concealing all the night-fowl flights
Until the black clouds once more set free.

Atop her bed, beside her fan,
A bat chewed on its foreign prey;
The sticky outpour then began
And left new traces every day.
The sudden creeping wind smelt strange,
Amidst its unfamiliar Lilt;
Then crashed against the chimes she built
Upon the lonely moated Grange.

Awakened by peripheral sound,
With emptied hope she scanned outdoor.
Through fading howls of a distant hound,
Shaken, she still kept her floor;
For now she knew how ‘lone she lay,
Devoid of love and joy she cried;
She now had no more tears to hide;
Alas, sank back to her getaway.

An hour ere dawn she heard a knock.
Fleeting hopes filled up her sight
She rushed to answer, awed, in shock;
The rustling trees absorbed the light.
A shrieking mouse canoe’d her tour;
She tripped upon the softened edge
That formed upon her floorboard ledge
And flung ajar her worn-out door.

Whispered she, “my life was dreary;”
“He never came,” she said.
She wept: “I am no longer aweary,
For soon, I shall be dead”.

Farewell - Illustration for Abraham

Atop her bed, beside her fan,
A bat chewed on its foreign prey;
The sticky outpour then began
And left new traces every day.
The sudden creeping wind smelt strange,
Amidst its unfamiliar Lilt;
Then crashed against the chimes she built
Upon the lonely moated Grange.

Awakened by peripheral sound, With emptied hope she scanned outdoor.
Through fading howls of a distant hound,
Shaken, she still kept her floor;
For now she knew how ‘lone she lay,
Devoid of love and joy she cried;
She now had no more tears to hide;
Alas, sank back to her getaway.

An hour ere dawn she heard a knock.
Fleeting hopes filled up her sight
She rushed to answer, awed, in shock;
The rustling trees absorbed the light.
A shrieking mouse canoe’d her tour;
She tripped upon the softened edge
That formed upon her floorboard ledge
And flung ajar her worn-out door.

Whispered she, “my life was dreary;”
“He never came,” she said.
She wept: “I am no longer aweary,
For soon, I shall be dead”.

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