The Storm
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Nosheen Irfan
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Today the sky wept
With a passionate, fervent plea
Pouring out his pain in floods
Unrestrained, full-throttled gush
Torn from black clouds of silent grief
In a ceaseless stream of tears
Held back long inside the fears
The sky wept and wept long
Unburdening himself of heaps
Of untold miseries he collected
In his bursting bosom over time
The land winced under his wail
The birds unconsciously forgot their wings
Why did he weep?
As if his heart had burst
As if his chains were unshackled
As if his locks were smashed
The land found no answer
She could but little divine
The meaning of this violent rupture
She imagined little
That the sky cried for her
For her barren, shriveled soul.
Nosheen Irfan © 2016
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