Zohair. Standing.

I live in second sight during these days

This what you’ve made of me, Saqi

I trudge the morning but walk the ways

Of the wounded after dusk

I drift in sulks and soft sobs

Bones here, mind elsewhere

Watching them rage and rob

Letting arrows chalk through me

And down onto your sons, Saqi

And into steady Zohair Al Qain

Ground in like a tree

Pouring his love out of each cut

I live in second sight, Saqi

For you have made me like this

Constant keener of your legacy

And I keep flitting between

These lessons in pure living

And this grinding reality

Where, without love, things are dying.

By Ali.A.Naqvi