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Draumgaldr Jul 23
Lowly, all pleasures sink;
No happiness it ever brought.
All joys that you may think
Repaint the pain you wrought,
Shall cling to you and bring
Horrors, woes, and rot.

Woe is you, woe is me—
She passes here at last.
Her voice and her shadow cast
The void that claws and stings.
Her shroud eternal, vast,
She that lives in darkness.

And beauty falls aghast by her tears;
The winding grass dances in trance beneath her marble feet.
Light couldn’t steal a glimpse of her,
Nor day or night dared to bring her peace.

For no moon shines above her head,
And the sun forgot and turned to rot
In her birthplace in the east.

All in shame in unison cried—
Angels and hellish beasts.

For devils could not stain her heart,
Nor soothe her pain, seraphims.

She that cloaks the darkness,
Her eyes that never sheen,
Made of hope departed
And all the forgotten dreams.

She knows every whining
Soul that dared to dream
For the shadowed traveler,
who walks between hope and despair—
a silent witness to forgotten dreams.
Crowded foresight —  
      thoughts stacked sky-high,  
     cluttered windows of a dreaming mind.  

              Out of mind,  
           out of sight…  
     yet somehow, I keep seeing  
     the better days of my life  
       skimming the edge  
        of a hopeful smile.  

                 That smile —  
          soft, unspoken —  
           given with time,  
        drawn from deep thoughts  
            folded in silence.  

                    . . .  

         Any life worth seeing —  
       any better version of me —  
    is shaped by what I’m willing  
          to put light on.  

               So I  
            paint my  
       foresight with  
   fireflies  and  sunbeams,  
     hoping the dark  
          makes room  
             for the  
            light I  
               keep.
JAMIL HUSSAIN Mar 15
Shall the sun’s warm kiss unveil thee so divine,
Or shall shadows rise where softest light may shine?
Will dawn's embrace reveal thy hidden grace,
Or cloak thee further in a veiled, mysterious place?

For if that veil slips, what shall remain of me?
A soul undone, adrift upon a boundless sea.
Shall I, in trembling, witness thee unfold,
Thy secret beauty, yet to be untold?

Shall I fall into the chasm of thy unspoken gaze,
Where light and dark entwine in an eternal maze?
Each layer stripped away, each truth laid bare,
Revealing thy essence, yet drowning me in despair.

For in that single moment, all shall be lost or gained,
A heart laid bare, where joy and sorrow are chained.
O' fate, dost thou mock me with such trembling fear,
To cast me upon this precipice, so near?

Shall I, in thine eyes, find both love and despair,
A fleeting breath, yet heavy beyond compare?
If thou shouldst unveil thy soul to me,
What of my own—shall I remain or cease to be?
The Chasm of Unspoken Gaze 15/03/2025 © All Rights Reserved by Jamil Hussain

— The End —