Scattered love, which I hold
Makes me nothing but cold.
Who waits for death to experience hell?
My scattered love shows me when I am all well.
“I am all tired, unable to hold” to my angelic self, I told.
“Unify your love for your beloved” to me, my angelic self told.
“Oh! That’s tough.” I replied.
“Well, that’s what you are: made to die” my angelic self cried.
I said to myself, “With all the steam,
I hold my beloved in high esteem.
Reaching to him is my existential crux.”
My self replied, “Your claims are but emotions covered with rust.”
Hopelessly I asked, “Why am I in this state?”
My self replied, “You miserably failed in the love you had to create.”
I hope one day I will unify my scattered love.
If I don’t, I better be something lesser than shrub.
A man with his love scattered,
Has nothing but daunting weathers
Withering his body and killing his soul.
Living in a personal hell burning with coal.
Anam Saeed is from Dehradun, India. He has been working in Doha, Qatar as an Administrative Manager from the past year. He graduated in Business Administration in 2012. He has a keen interest in poetry, theology and philosophy (especially the works of Sir Allama Muhammad Iqbal and his concept of "khudi" or self). This particular poem also finds inspiration from the works of Allama Iqbal's concept of self and its love for the divine .