Flame Vines Beyond the Panorama November 25, 2020

Flame Vines

Written by Saima Ahad


Like outgrown Flame vines; unfathomably puzzling.

I handpick one of its string, 

Untangling or sprawling it more, so vague was I. 

Glares of Helios had set me and the powdered éther on fire, 

Our bluish black skins are plucked at brinks; callously raw.

Nay! not to heal, but to bleed out all our breaths.

On a dust-filled bench, a couple warbled an old tune; bathed in love.

A queer sight; the couple intoxicate me with harrowed phantoms, 

For I had stood and seen those lusty Eeyorish crooks; brewing as the street ends, 

Cries and shrieks echoing; at night ‘Love’, 

In those sombre crooks had turned into a newborn red-eyed beast

I slipped a triangular cottage; crowded and mirthful, 

Swaying on drawn patterns of golden chandeliers.

I chewed the inside of my sagging cheeks,

Wondering whether home shall look for me someday. 

The weekend hung on my bristly beige overcoat, 

I wore it to the windswept beach, friendless. 

People underneath hood winking galaxies, carousing on birthdays and anniversaries. 

Plumping down on an egg shaped stone; my feet at rest, 

A daisy chain of motley fairylights, fervently blinking. 

Like those Bedouins on fresh deserts each day, 

I sense the eventide breeze beside me. 

Maybe it wants to feel home with me; a home in a homeless

In a trice; a short brunette shimmered before my wild brown orbs, 

Her floral dress leaping above each ripples, petite footmarks left on the bronze sand,

Nonchalant was she about tanned pebbles lying barren beneath. 

The flashback of a forgotten yarn tears off, as abruptly it began.

This eventide;

As the same deep blue ripples skim over me,

My guileless ecstasy to leap over them had breathe its last.

Hollows of tanned pebbles are more welcomed, Perhaps they cage truths, of those like me. 

I am rambling back, 

And there it is. 

The same brewing street reeking of cries amd shrieks, 

Is ‘Love’ again being casted into a red eyed beast, forcefully ?

I rent roads each morrow, to dwell on them. 

Snuffing out all the tulips, loathing their grins. 

For they vowed rainbows to me, mere dreams. 

And when I am done crushing the daylight, Ravaging a part of the world, 

I come back

Back to where I began from, the cramped house leaning on the dishonest bricks. 

Serpentine trail of bats; dangling head over heels, their gold eyes cussing me

I unlock the door of this shrinking chamber, in its eleventh hour. 

Aroma of beaten coffee cups and fetid salad plate suffuse me

This bitter sour fragrant, it has always been there;

It will always be there, till all my fragments die

Pulled off were the waxen curtains and frozen volcanic candles, stiff and cold. 

How I wish to shut those malevolent lips instead? 

Why can’t I? 

I had seen the angel I took birth out of,

Becoming scarce like mountain ridges; to abandon me.

I was no more of a heart and soul, only bare layers of skin.

I, out of despair 

Befriended the finest mad devils on each bridge.

Now I am a demon, echoing its venom,

Still spinning the Flame vines of thoughts;

Thoughts that always wreck and ruin me;

Thoughts that shall scream storm, in and out of me.

Saima Ahad
Saima Ahad

Saima is a connoisseur of poetry and writes beautiful verses about all the things she is passionate about.

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