Seeker Poet

At the usual time Of the midnight hour, When Zephyrus gave company And played me the lyre, I felt there silence Where I've been for long, Where screams accompanied Of the fake illusion thoughts, It's time when i feel the touch; The direction where anemoi flows, Earlier what i felt as a stream Of a hot wave or a chilling breeze, It's time when i am right here Sitting in the hallway of universe, Where i don't go out of me To bring in what's not mine, I am here in reality once again Where it leads and exists, Listening to the Zephyrus' lyre Rattling the leaves tenderly. © Mohammad Shahnawaz 2015

When night awaits the wanderer to return, To the mirror surrounding from above and beneath, It peeks what he has returned with, A bread of satisfaction or an empty handed distraction, Heart of the restless goes silent, When the next moment stops to listen, To take a look how well he's prepared, To face the moment of the midnight confusion, It's answers one seeks for the questions unanswered, To have a torch of reason, to feed up conscience, To go on with ancient swords, Where bravery shines but thoughts fear to ignite, The path is same where everyone has walked, Each feet has fallen where it was destined to fall, Don't try to plan what's beyond our reach, Listen to the call of the silence that speaks, The midnight confusion is the game of thoughts, To overcome the fears or to die in doubt, Believe yourself with the faith in divine, Being a wanderer, facing days and nights.