mind is elsewhere

if death could excuse the little errors of life
then how come
most human heart engage in remorse
and remain trapped in condolences
to their own choices
and still breathe in agony of separation
from the sweet truth of existent
and guard the memories of happiness
in the little mortal substances
contrived by time.

lover, be awake tonight!
because the first man was born out of love.

wrapped in blue hue of seasons
and figments of innocence
devil was once a lover
before the invention of words
like crime and punishment
and each life for each star
was a story of heart
not science,
but then it occurred
a chaos created a mind
and along the heavens of simplicity
a hell was designed
change was time's only accomplice.

in memory of god and lovers
Rumi's soul marched toward Ghalib's town
Iqbal's horse of revolution and ego
was slained for crimson corruption
and Faiz was agonized by hijr

the new lover was naive and ignorant
and the old was perishable
and the cursed poet
loomed around each letter
of this incoherence
in between the pages
of writer's block.

so if you do not understand
the intention behind such speechless syllable
make no worry the gift of thought
let a better acrobat perform
for the joy of words.