To speak of revenge – Aarif Khan

‘Tis a tale of yore, oft told to willing ears

Across starlit seas and sands, o’er the years

Fury, begot in a scorned heart, darkens its sight

And accrues to revenge, in the quiet of the night

Yet I once did yield, vernal in time’s palm

While wrath smiled, brimming within, in cruel calm

Deceiving to deliver, from sorrow; its delusion

Only bled true, after I fell for its illusion

As a mirage of courage in a desert of fears

Dies a craven, as the hope-laden heart nears

With restrained thirst, and a curbed rage

Turned I to hearken, words of the sage

Spoke he, of glory, in a veiled urge

Listened quietly a heart, seeking to purge

For days, we sung of psalms forgotten with age

Till sunsets many, unaware of death’s presage

Shall I now honour his behest, made in his hour last

To preach his counsel; words of a prophetic past

 

“In pretence, does speak revenge

Fawning over spite, dying at its avenge

To affirm, what men seem to reveal

Baring more, secrets they all conceal

Forbid gloom, of mortal ages, to dither

Its murmurs grim, like serpents shall slither

In hours amidst gathering clouds

Sing soft of promises, thee swore and vowed

 

At thy own peril, dare to foster

Vengeance, in past, proved an imposter

Bitter, ere long on itself irks the ire

Consumes the one, that did it sire

Or spurs the dream, cradled with care

Able of either, to each, in equal share”