Showing results for tag "funeral"

The Hand

Farhad Ahmed

I am standing on a bridge,
like a stone chiseled by the wind.
In this dark time,
there is no one to reach out with his hand,
and the wistful river now calls me down
to where the ghosts of late poets look at me,
as if I was an accursed messenger of their fates.

While the shadows lazily creep along the purple river
like a funeral procession
(and I thought that there would be
no one at my funeral),
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