Of Prose and Poetry


06/05/2014 by Siddiqui Fayesal

I’ve penned verses of
Sunsets and starry nights;
Of many cleaved lovers
And of the deathly sighs.

Of broken oaths I’ve
Written reams
And lengthy stories
Of love it seems.

Of warring tribes who
Avenge their deaths;
Of men and women
Who loved without regret.

Of honey kissed hills,
Of lonely seas;
Of betrothed sweetness,
Of different greens.

Of whistles in the woods,
Of frothing streams;
Of losing senses within
Ones dreams.

Paper has been spent
And ink has been spilt.
Hours have been wasted
But what have I built?

The creases in the world
Are yet to be ironed;
The tresses of the jungles
Are yet to be triumphed.

The sweetness of a sparrow
Is yet to be conquered;
The beauty of an eye
Is yet to be fathomed.

The depth of the seas
Are yet to be reached;
The reach of the heavens
Are yet to preached.

The strength of the trees
Are yet to be measured;
The cry of the hounds
Are yet to be ciphered.

The prose of the poets
Are yet to be seen;
While the poetic stories are
Yet to be weaved.

Siddiqui F.

Note: Written impulsively at the library today.

8 thoughts on “Of Prose and Poetry

  1. amarllyis says:

    Yes, you’re right. I like it. 🙂

  2. Watson Bakshi says:

    Very nice.

  3. Tianna says:

    love this one Fuzzy

Leave a Reply

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

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com 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

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.


  • 11,067 hits

Click! Click! Click!

Join 234 other followers

Jump to…




You will die the way you lived.

Aamil Syed

altered reality

The Mundane

Finding poetry in the ordinary.


...a whole buncha Tian'ness.


book reviews and more...


Indian Book Blogger | Poet | Short Story Writer

Get Out Harish

The world within three walls


لفلسطين الحرية

Murphy's Law

Musings from a Literacy Coach

Literature Is My Porn

"She read books as one would breathe air, to fill up and live."

Three Magical

Welcome to the inside of my head.

Scattered Brain

Musings about life and politics


Bridge the Gap , Bring the Change

| Ramble On |

And now's the time, the time is now, to sing my song

Unbound Boxes Limping Gods

The writer gives life to a story, the reader keeps it alive.

Ashish Shakya

Writer. Stand-Up Comic. Gulab Jamun Enthusiast.

schizophrenic dreams

It is Dark, and I like it that way...


... well we're going to die anyway!

Pulp & Fiction

We all change when you think about it. We’re all different people, all through our lives, and that’s okay, that’s good. You gotta keep moving, so long as you remember all the people that you used to be.

reading interrupted.

because reading also involves the way your head rests on your hand as you lean over a book, the damp mark you leave on a page when reading in the tub, or being interrupted by a

--- Grumpy Comments ---



Sharing knowledge benificial for duniya & akhira

Dad, the idiot

anchoring households for thousands of years

Yeha, Whatever

I'll write it anyway.

My Musings

Simply Put....its a conglomeration of my thoughts as & when they occur

%d bloggers like this: