Singed Letters

Your letters, yellowed with time


Now a brittle trellis carved

By silverfish;

Singed hearts they paint,

Aflame with ochred love,

They are.

Can they capture gaps filling eons?

Or test the hardy vine-like

Chords that bind hearts, cleft in twain?


Since time blurs gaze

Words of love pale

Like  slow dying embers

That  kindled the depths

Of fiery ardors that lie unknown.


As Love’s fragrance

Is lost in time,

To the disinterested eye

Insipid, the letters seem,

Like coffee

Turning cold and muddy.

Vile lies, these letters seem

Just another bunch of lies

Ah! Lies.

Yes, Time’s busy weaving

The warp and weft of lies.


Yet, none witnesses

The lovers’ unabated sighs!

Each fired by

An imprisoned moment

That’s Time’s captive.

Your breath when snuffed,

Buckles to Time’s sickle,

Failing to kindle

The last ember.

Then , O Reader!

How can the filigreed

Letter comfort,  a broken-heart me,

Who’s beyond repair!


Mumtaz N. K.


Picture courtesy: YAY Images


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Written by Mumtaz N K

Trainer, reader, littérateur  & wayfarer...many selves wrapped in one physicality

Sprucing up  my the writer in me...

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