Is this the end?
Is this the death?
Death has not always been an end
It may be a new beginning
It could have been a funeral
But it has to be the matrimonial
Of lust and hunger
Alas! Poetry is dead

She died last night
Of cerebral malaria
In the febrile fits
Of plagued identity
In the rigors and chills
Of seasonal insanity
In the aches and pains
Of bodily desires
Poetry died
Silently, invisibly
In the blast
Of this materialized world

Before sleeping in the robust arms
Of Dark Angel
She painfully uttered
A dying declaration
In her last muffled breaths

“I, the Cinderella of all Arts
Has had been mishandled
By the guardians and the messengers
They ignored the ‘FRAGILE’ sign
While shipping me from heart to heart
Mind to mind and soul to soul
I was broken into pieces
Even safeguarded
Inside the velvety red box
Wrapped with the white sheets
Of hundred percent pure cotton
Sealed with the melted wax
Of my frozen tears
Each piece of mine
Would live thereafter me
Eternally as a divine soul
In the juvenile bodies
Of so called amateurs
Who worshipped me since born
Like a goddess…”

Alas! Poetry is dead


Dec 20,2008

Dr Kamran Haider Bukhari

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/poetry-is-dead-3/