Dedicated to a daughter of a missing person

The clay made-dreams of a kid

Grow flowery spikes in each remembrance

Ever since you promised for a gift

Why don’t you come back shortly?

She has waited, waiting and will wait

In every single jiffy of absurd reminiscences,

She made a castle with a shabby walls around

She has bade all her friends once

And now calling them over

As she dreamt your entrance in preceding dark

And asks you in a mawkish tone,

Will this time you come to fulfill the partial dreams?

As this home seems a forest without your aroma

The door to it a way to thwarting

How I tolerate with?

How I bow my head to the only Divinity?

Fairly a translucent secret in my physique

You come and see,

How badly the loneliness occupied the calm into its hooks

How sharply the lighting glommed the dark

How innocently I kept my hands to the redden-heaven

It is all an untold story I have in my ribs

For your fancy arrival

For your beautiful smile …

Aziz Ejaz is a freelance writer, columnist and a poet. He contributes to the Balochistan Point and is subeditor at the Monthly Bolan Voice. Read other articles by Aziz.