Ayaan Fahad: Poetry Collection

Hymn to the Dove.

Burn your insights,

Dim the city’s lights

Where puddles reflect my frights.

Where the crowd dismisses the stagnant water

A pitch consumes me.

Flee to frosty woods

to die on an unimportant hill.

And sing to love

to the squirrel in the tree,

and write to the dove

to ask how she broke free.

Live not to be buried on a mountain, 

But a hill uninhibited.

Free spirited.

You may have lost all

But the woods.

Butterflies enthrall,

The bird broods.

Man broods too,

Menacingly; corrupting words,

Maliciously; corrupting worlds.

So I sit in the forest free,

Needing no man’s plagued honesty.

Listen to the strum of a guitar,

The hum of a shooting star.

Intoxicate on nature’s blissful qualia,

Slip into rasasvadic reveries,

Intertwined with the trees,

One with the azure sky

Swaying to the creek’s lullaby.

Bathe in gold,

Apricity’s descend from heaven,

Flow along the December breeze,

Let the soil meet your knees

By this Elysian’s amaranthine awe.

Till the frost melts on your skin,

Forgetting to bite,

As you dissolve into sunlight,

One with the earth.

Ballet Brûlant

Toska.

Icicles enclose my burning heart,

Melting as the blaze runs cold.

It yearns for coals-

To reignite the flames

Or fade into embers.

Carpe noctem,

The hour forsaken.

Fulfill or exsanguinate your desires.

Water-wood to my heart's flaming fires.

Extinguish it

For all Love is Futile,

Lost. 

Nothing worthwhile,

An eternally haunting hiraeth.

Miracle;

My uneven, fleeting breath.

Inferno.

Ashes ascend to heavens,

Raining upon barren ground,

Begging solace and attention

Of an indifferent bloodhound.

Nosferatu drowning in impure blood.

White peignoirs disgracefully drenched in lust.

In Somnia Veritas.

Veritas awakening volitions.

Your dreamy eidolon's,

Visit my reality, 

Your shadow in every corner,

Questioning my sanity,

My ability to love,

Stab my heart-

A hemorrhage of longing.

Scarlet Serenade.

In this rose-meadow, collect your scars,

Through thorns, to the stars.

Burn and Bloom-

A waltz in this burning field.

Among flames lies our fate concealed,

Sealed. 

Still, Sway to its mournful melody,

Aware of tragic ends

To this dreadful delight.

The vivacious virulence

Of this ephemeral night.

Amor.

Burn, Rise, Fall-

Let flames rewrite it all.

Hearts and Roses,

Through Thorns to your destined star.

The Mockingbird's Lament

Why doth my soul 

Desire another to cling to,

Does it have no limbs?

Is it only morning

When the mockingbird sings?

Why doth the moon alone be forbidden

Of its seraphic melody?

Though in scarcity

Does a camel not need water?

And prithee,

Do you not wish to be loved

And not left slaughtered.

Why do you curse,

What you yourself desire?

Say the soothsayer speaks the truth,

Yet deem him a liar.

For you defy your inevitable fate,

Unable to create,

Your own-

Your throne

Of sticks and stones

Shattering as you rest alone.

Homeless,

homesick,

for a home.

Ghosts of the Past

I stab the earth’s soft soil,

Murdering a pure life

As I dig into its malevolent heart,

Burying Ghosts of the Past.

They drag me along

In graves

Deep, dark, dismal.

To chasms abysmal.

Phantoms and specters,

Residing in the labyrinths of my brain,

In chambers of my heart.

A memento echoes.

An ember star glimmers,

Shining faint hope

Over the remnants

Of my memories.

The grave hauls me within.

Trapped amid its jaws

I plead for light,

Struggling to reach the surface,

Each crevice

Haunting me.

A rose wilts 

Over my grave.

I drown in the earth’s soft soil,

One with its malevolent heart,

A miserable life murdered. 

Till stars blow into oblivion

Bound eternally

To Ghosts of the Past.

Off the Dock

And I walk, walk, walk

Towards the hand in the sky.

It censures me with its palm         

Turned in my direction.

A rebel amongst god’s angels,              

Against the sky’s satanic dangers.            

I stalk, stalk, stalk

The being above the horizon,

Is it a thousand, is it one?

Did I make you, are you none?       

Miserable attempts

To talk, talk, talk.       

Aim at me,

Point your finger

Lifeless as chalk.

In fog

I wait for you at the dock.

My haunting horrors.                               

You are many you are one,           

To others, none.

Kill you

How when we are one.

Above the horizon, under the sun.

You hold a flower to me,

A knife at me.

A strife within.

No eye no ear,

I talk to the deaf, unable to hear.

Insanity, we cannot steer.

My dear oh dear

Do not tear,

Your skin.

Mere figments murder me.

Off of the dock,

To drown in the sea.

My mind, murder me.

Engulf the orb

With callous, calloused fingertips.

Turn it cold in malevolence,

Cut out the light.

Knock, knock, knock.

Sun’s demise at noon    

At the dock.

About the Author:

Ayaan Fahad is a poet from Lahore, Pakistan. He aims to write poetry that emotionally resonates with people and captures things left unsaid.