By Zainab Shahid
I dreamt of a haven by the sempiternal strand, among the sea thrift I so adore,
where the pulchritude of the dayspring could environ the land in all its glory;
And I, as a passing breeze, could behold the sublime yet prosaic serenity,
way out yonder, where the horizon kissed the crystal tides;
And not unlike an infinitesimal grain of sand thus,
Drifting wretchedly along the seemingly ever-changing tides of time,
Or rather the inescapable perfervid dunes of fate;
I venture forth to rove aimlessly, engraving my fading footsteps by the ocean's side;
And o'er the horizon, casting my forlorn gaze to the floating clouds,
That, strangely yet not surprisingly, beckon to me more of camaraderie than my own brethren,
I close thus my window to this world, on my way to another realm,
a dimension beknownst to me and my overwrought psyche alone,
a recluse for the soul yearned for as way back conceivable,
one haven of long-awaiting peace, with nothing quite as despair as that in my waning reality.
By Zainab Shahid
Comments