The New Year Baby,
In the hands of the old,
The old lady with a young toy,
Sanitized toy breathing hard,
For an uncertain survival.
I am a forgotten photo album of insomnia,
Unconscious soul of beaten beauty,
Beside is the shallow water stream,
To quench the thirst of a dead,
But the hands cannot fetch a drop.
Yoga, care home, old home:
All is lost!
That day is today:
Time old is the time new.
Malevolent it was,
Fearless of unseen miseries.
And then, the arrival of death:
Travelled a long way to my home,
And people around my arms__
At a night party of moving legs,
On a musical node,
And I had had a beauty in my arm,
But now a senseless dead and no talk,
Here the soul crumbles of baby toy,
Know nothing of the unknown walk.
O Lord __
Let me sleep in peace.
Madani Mohiuddin Ahmad
King Saud University, Riyadh, KSA