On the Shores of Blood

By Junaid Ashraf

Poets, 
On the shores of blood
Are not nightingales
That will sing
On moonlit branches.

Poets, 
On the skies
Heavy with shreiks
Are not brave huntsmen 
Or confident sailors
That they will 
Fly past the mountains
Into unknown lands
And bring back 
In their beaks,
Treasured in their claws
Meaning,
To be made beautiful
And beauty ,
to be made meaningful.

Poets,
in the gorges of death
don’t carry
In their pockets
flutes
And tambourines
With mystic tunes.

Poets on the banks of Jhelum,
Are fallen angels
Pulled down 
by the gravity 
Of barbarity
Feathers falling 
Like the hair 
of a bride.

They are gravediggers
Of the dead
To be burried 
In the space of
Twenty six alphabets
Infecting words
That may cause, 
Somewhere, sometime,
An Epedemic
Of care.

*

Junaid Ashraf is a student from Kashmir. He has done his post-graduate studies in economics. He is currently pursuing his masters in English literature. He has written opinion pieces, fiction and poetry for various newspapers and literary magazines. Research, writing poetry and fiction are his main interests. Besides that, he is a sports enthusiast and likes playing football, cricket and skiing. Political activism is his passion.

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