SONNET 242
By JH Sayyar
When I am summoned by my past,
Wears a black dress stands in rows,
Dim eyes drop rising breath Aghast,
Blood in eyes in bowing head pose,
All cute faces, mirror of my thought
Move in the circle, the centre is one,
Reflects dark towns my soul caught,
Looking at it; hopes into coal turn,
Stressed emotions release a deep sigh,
A terror prevails over my duller soul,
Dead turns into new shapes all night,
Frozen soul: under the power control,
Woman’s eyes expose, moving trends,
Your white hole lovers; all your friends
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