By: Mohammad Anas

It’s 2:00 AM,

My eyes are searching for a light on this silent hill,
Tonight, I am going to invoke a muse by my vibrant will,

Struggling for the set divine rules of heaven,
Her graceful wings fall on the hill to make it eleven,

Thou muse of my artistic and poetic imagination,
My verses are drowning in the ocean of ‘HER’ obsession,

With the apocalyptic presence of your holy glance,
Empty words of my poetry will passionately dance,

Sing with me, you divine creation from heaven’s truth,
My muse, my passion, my poetry, come take my youth,

Come hold me with your godlike hands with full determination,
I am slowly slipping out from this dreamlike compassion,

You queen of art,
with cure of my aching heart,

Reveal your musical mystery,
For the sake of literary history,

I know, your existence is unreal,
But, for my wild words, it is ideal,

Allow me to pick the fragments of your fallen grace,
And to capture your image in my allusional space.