What needest thou my fair of eclipsed doom
by Naveed Khalid
to bloody tyrant time,
of untread places far-off her vacant looks more bright,
that in the ocean sink where all graces abide by a hawthorn,
amidst a bunch of roses thy gracious muse to hide, my love,
from black swans ethereal wings in heaven's high bower,
oft grows more blessed by the west wind in autumn;
hath rent this world to e'ery falling star in winter cold
against that forfeited dark in Hades of a star:
I still am looking, looking through e'ery pouring shadow,
not least by dark bewails the night in unattended hour,
of furrowed fields against the harvest moon along the pavement of cow parsley,
a mistletoe on his back to that day of unaltered eye in my spilt words
through the staircase window of the wall too but corrupts the mind,
ah, down that road under the hedgerow of a cottage-tree,
that crow's quill by the sweat of thy brow at sunset of the evening sky.
(C) Naveed Khalid
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Date Created: Monday, May 11,2015 5: 39: 02 PM