Life Goes On

A Lili pad swirls about its shifting axis,
Its slippery green surface cradling a tiny sea,
And somewhere the sunlight washes over the bruised skin,
Of a purple tulip with its mouth brimming with morning dew,
And its creaking stem bent by a burden unknown.
I too wage such battles in the four corners of my room.
I see a chess board gathering dust,
And smell the warm plastic roasting steadily under my breath.
I will lie down and light up my friend – the cigarette;
And hear the sounds of burning villages.
Sheathed under the brilliant crackling sounds of burning tobacco,
I will mistake the noisy semblance for music
And slip into blissful sleep.

© Sameer Kashif