These thoughts...

I'm preserving these thoughts,
like the sandals of my Grandpa
that lay ashore, forlorn
and submerged in the tears of time.
Like winds, I strain my voice, tonight
in the secluded alleys of my town,
as I inherited patience from my olds,
I restrained my voice; tonight,
fumbling like an ignited soul,
that wanders in search of a body,
or the trembling lips
that lack courage to speak the truth.
I preserve these verses,
into the hearts of the people,
like a lover who buries himself
in the garden of his beloved;
as I listen to the complaining voice
of a dying emotion,
like life it uncertains, like death
it remains; a secret to the corpse.

- Syed Rehan