Stories, Pt.3


Mesteerian Dawn 2


I have stories with sunsets and dawns,

crimson lights of ends and beginnings.

the sky is ablaze in a myriad of fire shades.


In my mind,  it was me at the center,

not the sun. I was the scorching sphere

radiating fiery flames as I rise and fall.


I was no such thing as light or hope.

I burn. I incinerate.

More than anything, I reveled in that thought

that I was in solitude. All alone.

Nothing dared to orbit my flares.

I was at peace.


The golden orb was now halved by

the horizon line and I was back to

the man who sat on the hill

to watch mere shades of the lonely color

that he will never be.


23/04/2016 © Waseem Sherif

Picture taken: [06:35] 04/08/2009

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s