Poem - The Rose on the Hilltop, Poetess - Shah Jehan Ashrafi (Canada - Mauritius)

 



The Rose on the Hilltop 


Once I went to pick a rose from the hilltop.

The raging breeze and the wild rain

Made me feel like a restless horse.

My heart, a delicate threatened lover.

Lightning and thunderbolts scared 

It to death, telling it that the rose

Wasn’t meant for it at all.

But I continued to climb, a race

Against the void; only ascension was my aim.

I never stopped looking at the colour red.

I watered it with my tears, but I whirled 

And was gone by the wind.

Passion tamed me all the while.

I refused to taste the howling nothingness.


©® Shah Jehan Ashrafi


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