Woven in the threads of metals
I spew out
Memories in silver
Few stories in steel
Ages ago,
those moments which died
Amidst the cracks of ruins
to iron the wrinkles of time
far from behind
are running rampant upon
the windstorms
Melts away the Sky
Thunderbolts in pieces fall
and slips too from the riverbed
the pages I painted in clay
While drawing you
Descends along
the muse armoured
Generously
It splinters my pores from the flesh
The fingers bleed
In the direction of your streets
Where would you hide my love?
These rejuvenated verses
have promised to bring you back home .
Paras Ali /2019
