Sonnet: Obscure Life
While I had been wishing upon a wistful star
The push of the ocean poured through my cracks,
Drowning me dutifully and delicately insofar
As death can be – with a laugh and a pat on the back.
While I was busy counting sand grains again
A scorpion saw fit to fix its merciless tail to me,
And the venom worked its way to blood and brain
Birthing hallucinations of lives I failed to be.
What is this fear, this discontent, this vague ache?
Another time, another chance, another foolish hope,
I have hidden in hideous acts – all taken to break,
For sweet slumber can embalm my dreams I know.
Yet need I know you feel, lest all times be a hell:
Had you not slit my throat, I’d choke on myself.
I saw this baby pink rose dance prettily:
Reaching for a fruit ere ripe upon the treetop.
When I tried to have her, rebuked she wittily,
“My scent is desire, his taste is, and you forgot
My thorns are erect, breaking your own redness.”
Once these winds strike palms to our chests
I see her in the white glitter of the rushing rapid
But her depth serves only bronze bods a nest,
And I beseech her with opens arms and rabid
Fervour. The dying embers suffice for a forest fire.
Yellow and brown was to crunch crisply so
Yet it crackles in cradling a careless caress:
Borne in this burning was a hope of life mo’e
Whence the time doth go to the final rest.
But what lives long in the unnatural cycle?
Snow falls, fell, had fallen – away to the blazes now.
Be no more than the ashes hidden underneath,
The marks of a short history, glossed on the mouth
Of hungry earth, the cavern that ne’er speak.
Never safe, never fed, never finished, as we be.
Akif Rashid is Pakistani, and currently lives in Oslo, Norway.