Wednesday, February 6, 2008


It was the stuff of dreams.
Prayed for, it opened a door for a brief moment
to extend, reach, and run from the night.
Falling down, to an abrupt stop,
you wait.

Warm tears roll down cold cheeks
exposed to a windy day
--painted picture perfect since dawn
and it’s all fine due to the forced smile
that had passed by.

Back lying on dew drenched fields
the sky, seemed to swallow it all.
You shiver due to its sublime magnitude
and turn over, to hug the Earth,
securing yourself in its bosom.

Tears fall
planting pain like seeds that grow
convincingly into ideas of lost passion.
Passion fruit which blocked out a twilight sun
half-pasted -Heaven.

Shade so sweet
because it grew from the heart
with soul songs that echoed from within.
We all heard it.
With irrefutable clarity.
Then it stopped.
Because you had found the strength
and gone home.

Pasion Fruit by Shazza Nakim
Copyright © by Peace of Mind Publishings and with permission by Shazza Nakim

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