Poetry

September 6, 2017 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION

Zach Guinta photo

 

By

Safia Izhar

 

 

 

The Smiling Girl

 

 

The smiling girl, wringing in the turmoil of repression

The smiling girl, was locked in a four walled depression.

 

The overpowering shell began to fill with flood and thunderstorm,

The walls began to close, the smile decayed, she was stuck in monstrous dorm.

 

The decaying smile, the burgeoning tears, the unending flood,

The loud voices, the horrible clouds, the fear and the rushing blood.

 

The girl began to sink; notice she would sink, not drown– such in the intense hollowness

What paradoxical coincidence, such was her life– she was hollow, yet filled with emptiness.

 

The water overwhelmed her, her insides screamed, she struggled and forgot she couldn’t swim,

Her hands were wringing in the gushing water, she knew that chances were dim.

 

The failing girl smiled, a way out…up…Courage entwined her, hope enticed her,

She endeavoured, arms and legs began to move, the numbed senses stirred

 

The fight began, life smiled, she smiled back, but roared the water and thunder.

She smiled, she struggled, there wasn’t a small chance of blunder anywhere under

 

Her hand touched the wall of the shell, it was weak, she struck her fist, and it broke

The water fell with a splash, the thunder hushed, the shell was divided in a joke

 

She cried at the top of her lungs, she shrieked, tears making her vision hazy

That was the last she died the routine death. She smiled. Tears abandoned her.

 

 

 

 

 

Ms gentle-ladies and Mr gentle-men

 

 

Renaissance- all drama of rejuvenation of the time back then,

Life cycle- it goes on, the past time returns when?

Youngest to younger to elder to eldest,

Nothing can disrupt it. Even Shelley’s wind of the west

Tries the potent force but here the gone is gone

What is won is won, but ultimately comes the dawn!

We know it. Yet I and you Ms gentle-ladies and Mr gentle-men

Possess the quality of completely throwing the wise words in a dark den

We capture them like the prisoners of Nazis in a dark train,

No food, no water, thousand wisdoms die in innocent vain.

The remainder is thrown in gas chambers as fire fuel.

And then proudly we boast about money, car, and jewel.

I am a liberal, I am a modern, I am the sovereign of the whole past.

I am a drama, I am a theatre, I am a movie. I am part of every dual faced cast.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Safia Izhar

I am Safia Izhar. I am a freelancer and am currently doing my Mphil in English Literature.

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