Perhaps, some narratives are best left untold,
For more often than not, we do take for granted,
how tragic life is, when dark irony unfolds,
and miserable fates are, for those most coveted.
Countless of suns has a pure diamond seen,
and countless forgotten in the womb of its soil.
To coronations, to courts and wars it has been
yet to rest on its throne, it has made empires toil.
Graced a guillotine, and kissed a brothel floor,
adorned a tainted fleece, watched a hall aflame,
never loved, forever owned, present’s queen, tomorrows whore
always lying waking still, the unblamed, the unnamed.
Your only sin my hopeless dear, beauty is your only dress,
always left to watch the reigns,of nations grieving solace past.
Instead mourning helpless there, if laments you could possess,
as moaning harems do for now, and you, the tyrants save for last.
Truly, things most useless are, playing host, precious most,
and every lovely face does not, of akin beauty tale a’boast,
for those we envy are at best, those we pity by the end,
and that which we may lust for most, must Alas! to us attend.
“No one knows, what lies beneath, the tragic tears of a dying sun.”
“…how tragic life is, when dark irony unfolds,”
Yes. There is tragedy in life. The Greeks knew it well. But irony is not always dark. There is light in it because what irony implies is a meeting of equals. One cannot be ironic if the irony is not understood. It requires two. And for irony to be understood it requires two equals. The silver lining.
Beautifully written, once again.
Irony is never meant to be dark, but the moment we realize its reckoning is upon us, we misconstrue the light at the end of the tunnel as being an unavoidable freight train. In that moment, our burdens come upon us while our sense and sensibility depart.
You mention the requirement of two equals, my dear, if two equals could meet, it would not matter if irony was to be understood or not, that would suffice for them on its own.
Thank you, as always, it has been a pleasure.
Osama Iftikhar.
Even your prose is lyrical. I wish there was more of it. Even small fragments would be enough. And I agree. Fully.
That’s quite a compliment, and I’d love to continue our little conversation, but time permits me from doing so at the moment, have work in the morning, and its almost 11 in Pakistan. Do take care, wont you?
๐
Will do, thank you. Wishing you a fruitful day. I am sure we can return to our conversation at the end of it.
Warm regards,
Vic
And a fruitful day it was. If ever you do feel like conversing (when you feel you have nothing better to do), you can contact me on my facebook page (https://www.facebook.com/iftikharosama). My apologies for being such a cliche’.
Facebook will be the end of us all. I will take a look however ๐
Reblogged this on Emberyn's Collection of Neat Stuff.
This one kills me, really… :0)
I’ll take that as a compliment then, thank you.
it is a compliment, you are amazing man, I truly admire your work, :0)
Wow this is awesome!
Thank you ever so much.
๐
“Graced a guillotine, and kissed a brothel floor,”
My,oh my. You are brilliant!
“Perhaps, some narratives are best left untold,”
Isn’t this so true,though? I have always seen life as a story and every situation as a new chapter, but isn’t your statement true? I have felt, especially recently, that some parts of this story called “Life” should not be told…..All in all, this poem is at once thoughtful and thought provoking.Excellent job! (:
Thank you, you give me the honor of acknowledgement, such of which I am not worthy.
I feel that, all and not some parts should be left untold, because what can we gain with divulging them, if not the pity or envy of those to whom we relate?
Beautiful.
Thank you Victoria.