THE RUIN WITHIN

Too many skies hover beyond my caliber, Yet none dare to strike my tender kernel. Countless souls have stoked this soaked spirit, But each has left my veins shivering — With goosebumps of bleeding silence. I wander through glimpses of chronic fatalities, Where love, untouched, still breathes in dust. The wrath—so kind, so cold— Alarms the emotions of buried fossils. My thoughts, once vocable as dawn, Now lose their words in the graces of the unfortunate. I still stand lonely— In the cavalry of unfurled, infinite lines. The moment I ceased to feel for the beloved Who once lushened my green, alarming garden— Cannons of new beloveds came, Yet none bore her fragrance. Losing her was the ruin of my inner horizons; Though I never fell, my heart never awakened. ~Muntaher Manzoor