As there I sat silent and idle
A dead small voice spoke to me
“Though you are so full of misery
Were it not better not to be?”
I thought it once, yet again I thought
What it said was right or not
Self blinded I was by my pride
And harsh seemed the world from every sight
But then, I recalled the worlds my father said
Look up through night, the world is wide
And when I pondered this thought
Arouse the dark moaning voice
“Though you are steeped in misery
Surely it were better not to be
Your anger will not let you sleep
And you cannot much think, but shall only weep”
A crystal silence was castled unto me
The words it spoke, cannot be ignored
Then I glanced the light piercing through sky
Some beamed mild and some with great intense
Could I too, like them make some difference?
Or be forgotten, in this world of sense?
Laughed there the voice that never laughed
But to tease the ones, who lost their path
“You have not gained any real height
Nor are you any nearer to the light
Your all hopes, shall be ended in smokes
Because the scale to go is infinite”
“Nay” I replied to the very voice
Such words may not bring me any closer to death
If, for you, I went to the world far away
And met death as you will to say
My funeral would go unwept, unhonoured and unsung
And people would speak of me in low
Doing dishonor, again to my clay
And such shame, my soul cannot bare
“This is more vile” he made reply
“To breathe and strive, to live and sigh
Than once from dread of pain to die
Useless you are, sick and ill
Fear of men, but a coward still”
“O dull one sided voice” said I
You will make everything but a lie
To flatter me that I may die
But I am a man, full of hopes
And your words for some, may be true
But these for me are piety jokes
I could as you say, rot like a weed
And meet death, the darkest shade
But will to sow, some generous seed
Which enlights the heart, that forgot to beat
And fruitful it becomes, pure of thought and deed
And wish to live, rather than sleep
I saw a man at his work
Rowing hard against the stream
Saw distant gates of Heaven gleam
Sowing himself in every wind
A didn’t dream it was a dream
And seemed to hear a heavenly friend
I recalled the words Tennyson said,
“A life of nothings, nothing worth
From that first nothing ere his birth
To that last nothing under earth”
But these thoughts comes to such
Having a healthy mind and owning a pure heart
Moreover, something is or seems
That touches me with mystic gleams
Soft, cold like breeze it feels
Like some glimpses of forgotten dreams
Of something felt, like something there
Of something done, I know not where
I paced my way through the forest
And felt the mystic smell enriching my Brest
Making me feel a man who always was blest
The leaves, the flowers why seemed so new
Alas! My frozen heart began to beat
Remembering its ancient heat
I passed the stream and wandered on
The dull and bitter voice was gone
But a second voice was at my ear
A little whisper silver clear
A murmur, “Be of a better cheer”
I smiled and asked it further
What is it you know, sweet voice?
“A hidden hope”, the voice replied
I wondered as I paced along
The nature was filled, so full with songs
There seemed no room for sense of wrong
Just the leaves dancing here and there
So different seemed all things wrought
I wonder how the mind was brought
To anchor out of many, one gloomy thought
And therefore, today I made a choice
To commune with that sweet voice
Then follow that said, “My men, rejoice rejoice!”
-Sameer Ahmed Khan
I like your poems. But I can’t understand you. I am me myself.
nice
🙂
It’s really gud.
God Bless You.