Deep, from within the six feet,

I knocked at your door at midnight.

Why, then, did you not hear my call?

Were my cries too feeble for your eternal mercy?

I sat beside your remains and wondered,

What devil had cast it’s spell upon you.

You smelled like old peaches and almond blossoms tonight

He was reciting poetry, old metaphors

The smell of ghazals penetrated through my old grave

Melancholy and music, sway hand in hand,

I’m lying below this six feet and I can see no light.

Perchance it’s day, perhaps it night.

Who can tell? It’s autumn anyway!

There is no reason to stay alive.

As dead ghouls of winter blow with the autumn wind tonight!

I’ll wait for reckoning, I’ve so much to say,

Blood pumping through my heart,

My parched lips barely open tonight.

I’m tired of sitting in this grave,

I’ll wait slowly and patiently for death tonight.

I haven’t completed my story yet ,

And this mere thought scares me.

With unfinished writings in my hand, I’ll sit by your door tonight.

I’ll wait all night, there seems no escape.

All alone, with your remains by my side.

A gust of wind blows, and i feel the air beneath

As my “rooh” wanders through the old graveyard,

I see Syed’ s grave, with no flowers on it.

Perchance he’s an old, lone soul, like me

Perhaps, no one remembers him now…!