Envious of Your Moon

Tonight I will
                         

 Set on flames
                          

The silver self of mine
                   

Till caged in iron chains
               

I will gulp down
                      

The chalice brimming with nothingness
                              

Till insomnia in my eyes settles

 And in the puddle
              

Where fossils of imperfection float

I will drown
                         

To let my blood in it get muddled
                                       

 I will let the flakes of cosmic dust
                             

Wane my heart
                         

Till I am sooty and blotched
                                  

 I will be a blank paper
               

Having a spotted equator  
                    

To become a bewitching metaphor
                             

Like your nocturnal Moon...
                             

Would you then doll me up in your verse?

Copyrights reserved to Paras Ali/2017

Blasphemous Mother

The red robed whore bares her stomach to get it scissored

In closed-pavilion, the reeking clots she desperately cuddles

During the hours when darkness sets the moonbeams blurred

Because the bastard in the city of saints deserve some respect

Look at that hefty, thick lipped she-male?

Who tarnishes the last bone of cigar's ash

When ax-edged droplets of pan are spat on her face

And whole night the she-male prays for nothing

But to be a Ma of a complete human

The Queen of the Jungle, while, is the Queen of the gore

Benumbed and blind, she watches ‘Man of her life’

Rummaging through the thirty teeth, picking his furious four canines

To tear down and incise his son's last crumb of flesh

Not frightened of the sun, not scared of the woods

The Queen of Jungle stands like an unmoved stander

                                         Dead to the fact this cub had more than half of herself                                                                         To win his love, his numbered nights and days.                                              The cub's breath is traded-off on cheap bargain

Paras Ali/2017