My Renaissance


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By Ikram Ullah

I lived like thou,

a life, but no quarry

a soul so freakish.

And a body so Repose.


A Boy Wild about Wild,

Dead of ambitions,

With no thought of Life.

Thee called me Yokul.


Was insensitive to incidents around,

took no cognizance of Life and Death,

knew no of Freedom…

And of the Flying birds.


Caged was my mind.

As were the Nightingales.

Drunk was I, high on cognac,

Cold inside, a mute dweeb.


Lately did it happen

That an Angel passed me by

Singing an Elegy that

made me cry…


It woke me up

from a slumber of lie.

The song lamented,

an old man’s Sigh.


Whose only son disappeared in the Sky,

for he was killed while catching a fly.

The man’s grief was so high

that the silent tears caused him an eye.


The Angel left a mark in my heart,

of conscience and Pity…

A life to my wayward body,

of soul and wily…


It inflicted in me a new enthusiasm

of listening to thy grief.

And empathize with thee

the gleam of thy heart and the cry of thee soul.


My heart could behold none.

Hence I began spewing my Spirit.

With the flow of a River

I began to break the Lull.


Marking my Poetic Renaissance

I laced into a Poet’s throat,

Accoutered with a skilled hand.

I started pouring out my thought.


Ikram Ullah is studying Biomedical Genetics in VIT, Bangaluru. He was influenced for poetry by the 2010 revolution of Kashmir.

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