A Poem by Ramsha Ghofran

I knew him for the streak of sunlight,
Waking me each morning,
Reminding me he's there for me,
Beside me was a vase of dead leaves.

Autumn had brought auburn leaves,
One night into my room,
The moonlight crept onto my bed,
Took my hand and held it tight,

I knew the Sun for who he was,
The moon however, less.
I snatched my hand back away,
But the moonlight stayed in my room.

One day I snatched my hand back again,
Realizing the moonlight did not grab it.
Nor was there a periwinkle hue in the curtains,
Draped around the room

Just then I began to realize,
How much the dark consumes the night,
My hands felt empty,
More so did my heart.

The window pane was left open,
I peeked into the phthalo sky,
There I saw no moon, nor star,
Instead I saw the sun.

Who knows the nights I ponder,
Waiting for the moonlight to come back,
Maybe it never will,
Or maybe, I should go and take his hand.

Take his hand, and never turn back.


© 2022 Ramsha Ghofran

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Added on March 2, 2022
Last Updated on March 2, 2022


Ramsha Ghofran
Ramsha Ghofran

Karachi, Hasan Square, Pakistan

I like sandwiches more..

Dream Dream

A Poem by Ramsha Ghofran