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Array
(
[sid] => 12164
[catid] => 1
[aid] => Mick
[title] => My Silent Visitor
[time] => 2003-02-08 04:40:00
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => My Silent Visitor
By Ashraf Gohar Goreja During the long winter night Interminable darkness with Solitary disposition Of fearful thoughts. Unrefined. Spiritless, Depressed, And downcast mind. My tired vision floated above From one sphere to another In search to perceive The traces of enduring beauty Of my precious but Confounded love. Instead, my hasty senses Preyed the ancient beauty of Pasithea, One of the Graces of Zeus Who bathed herself out in portals In heavenly oil of ambrosial To please the dead souls of high nobles Strained in legendry realm of immortals. She was delightful more than enough To gratify the living thoughts Of inquisitive mythologists; Charming enough to rebounce In the wisdom of disheartened poets. And extremely fabulous; she was rife. Conferred by the resilient vision Of innumerous but zealous artists Who gave her imperishable Span of endless life. In their prudent silence, All these romantic men strived For long myriad ages In perpetual persuasions of Enchanted beauty of breathless Pasithea, who only lived In dreams of unknown lovers. Elusive and subtle. Hence she diffused the spell of her beauty Insidious pleasure for them to recover. In my dejected and starving mind Her crucial envision was evasive, Because my poor mind Was destitute enough as An old, deadly, and forgotten shrine. That hardly receives any visitors, Neither a flendish worshiper Nor a famished beggar's whine. Just an awful, lasting tranquility. All around me and behind. Cruelly depressive harshness Of many unwanted and Aimless dreams; Drifted her splendid image From one corner of mind to another With horrific and disturbing themes. Yet my beloved silent visitor Intrigued my appalled soul Exuberantly, Fascinatingly, And most of time Compassionately. When I tried to reach her, Her sorcerous image Riffled from valley to valley. Frequently she hid herself among The stony and breathless souls Biding to win the exalted nobles. Inhumed behind dilapidated walls Distained royal palaces and poles. She was beyond my reach. Lives farther than twilight. In quivering and tremulous percept Fading as dim rays of starlight. But ,oh! My silent visitor The sanctuary of my humble mind Is permanently open for your sublime. You my dear, come and go at anytime. Ashraf Gohar Goreja January 21, 2003 [comments] => 3 [counter] => 187 [topic] => 48 [informant] => gohar [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => EmotionalPoetry )
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