Residual Life


06/03/2014 by Siddiqui Fayesal

I spoke to her about my life
While we shared a coach to
My father’s farm.

She spoke with a soft
Foreign tongue
And later fell asleep
In my arms.

While I ran around
Cooping hens;
She played the flute
To my merry laughter.

She played a love song
With a tear in her eye
While I tended to
Our pasture.

She had those soft eyes
Which were used to mirth.
She used them to tell me
Lovely lies.

She had a smile that
Lit her face;
She had a smile that
Graced her lies.

For those lies to hear
I now weep aloud.
As I cherished her lies
Much more than the Truth.

Her lies were lovely;
Her lies were love itself.
It was joyous
And my spring of youth.

Now, when I’m done living
Our life
I can still hear her footsteps
In my yard.

She had walked softly
And tried to scare me.
I had played along for her
In her farce.

But all I hear now is her
Footsteps dull.
But all I hear is my
Broken heart.

All she does now is
Walk with me.
Without a smile,
Without a laugh.

Siddiqui F.

4 thoughts on “Residual Life

  1. Gede Prama says:

    amazing and well presented, greetings peace be with you 🙂

  2. cherylmoore says:

    I love the way you tell the story through your poetry, which is very well written. Great work.

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