Own Me, Death
By: Faizaan Bashir
Death, you always play games with me:
In just a blink of an eye, you are so close to me;
and as I close my eyes, spread my arms, to hug you, you are nowhere,
not anywhere felt,
Leaving me in this pain, a friend now.
But a cruel friend.
What have I done that even after urging you to hold me tight just for sometime, and
give me the first and the last kiss,
which you have been offering others like me for ages now,
you are so unwilling?
It’s paining: Aint I, my life, robust enough to escape from its clutches: the clutches of pain. Stuck!
What will I have to do, death, death-angel, my lord, my love, to defeat this torment?
to slaughter my senses?
to put an end to every damn thing that kills me every passing minute, second?
You hear my voices, death, voices in voices, horrible voices, and quiet voices,
many times, most of the times,
but you don’t comfort me!
How you are seeing me write my ‘longing’ for you,
my love for you,
you: The only saviour, the only God.
Will you accept me?
Have I, my dear, told you before that I can just make you sit here across from me, do the stuff?
Then remembering those innocents?
but (and) I won’t go that way.
I just wish you to come here smiling,
with no pre conceived notion of leaving me in an instant;
let this drunk see your bright face for sometime;
approach me, my moon, like that innocent girl walking towards her prince charming slowly and happily
and spread your soft cold hands over my body
and suck my soul away.
That I have always wanted from you.
No blaming on you, death, no worries, for taking me away so soon.
Haven’t I told you before?
ain’t I telling you now?
you just do the stuff.
When is the day?
when is the hour?
when the moment?
when the golden second?
when will you understand me?
my wanting to have a few touches and the first and the last hug of u?
I am waiting. Own me.