a poem by Shamsud Zaman Ahmed, India

The last thing on earth is never the last,
A change only, the old one’s rust;
The last thing always does starts,
Clairvoyance for the dog that bark.

Corporal gnarled – the left alone,
Influxes from our tomorrow and the next;
And persistence scotches the succulent memory,
Now I will start sorely.

Vervain your vestibule – I passed,
Even though that was my last;
No university of life exist,
If you follow the rhythm we all last.

Conditioned mindset you know,
We break again – we bow;
Something absurd but wholesome fear,
Those basics I still bear.

The only road I foresee,
Someone for this jester at the edge;
Smooth and roughness I can sledge,
All my memories buried in my bed.

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