Shades of Grey by Wardha Jawdat (best fiction novels txt) 📕

All I asked for,
was an ‘I love you’,
And the price I paid,
was estrangement.
Maybe I asked for too much,
When what you felt
simply wasn't enough,
for it to warrant,
a profession
of love...

So now, I drown in the silences
of your indifference and my distrust;
Certain that all, I thought
I saw in your eyes,
was a mere phantasm,
of my own desperate desire.

I dub thee ‘Pain’

Each time I dream of you,
I dream the same pain,
cry the same tears,
slit the same tattered vein,
and yet…I dream of you again.
I never tire
of seeing you leave,
I never despair
of the despair I feel.
I haven’t understood as yet why
I never see the look in your eyes
when you turn to leave
on those countless nights...
Just the darkness,
that swallows you whole,
and the emptiness,
as it echoes in my soul…
I don’t wish to sleep tonight,
don’t wish to see you leave tonight;
my death in your absence is real indeed.
But the tragedy of your parting
I feel I can’t repeat...


not tonight;
not even the lure of looking upon your face
can entice me to risk seeing it turn away
yet another time,
yet another night.
I want to be completely bereft tonight,
for there is a sad loveliness
in this estrangement we share,
somehow less treacherous
than the dreams where
you beckon unto me
till I ache for you,
and then turn away
as my eyes tear up,
and,
I reach out to whisper
my pain:
I love you,
I love you,
yet again.

Ice

The cold war you wage,
is of the fiber that would
freeze over hell's gates;
and confound the devil himself
with its lack of soul.
Your reticence has
cooled my raging passions,
and made me a stranger
to my own shadowy presence;
I exist no longer in my world
of ginger and spice,
where romanticisms were nurtured
and fairytales sprung a thrice.
You have made me a pauper
upon the streets of my own fantasy;
I no longer sing ditties or
fondly play with elf or pixie.
I stand marooned,
on an island of ice,
chilled to the bone
and blue in my woe;
yet, not a tear I shed…anymore;


so frozen is my despair,
so complete is your dark control
over my iced soul.

Do I love?

You come and with you
the winds come,
bearing scents of spring
and subtle tales of musk.
The iridescent little particles
which float above your head
mesmerize me so much;
I fall in love with the aura
of you and your imperfections;
I look at you as you sit,
silently
staring at the sundance,
and I find that I like
the sad eyes,
the wrinkles about them;
I quite fancy the
shape of your lips,
and your nose is soft
in its direction;
I like the peppering of grey
about your temples,
and the fact that you know


I like the silence.
I wonder,
if all these parts
add up to the one answer:
Do I love?

The Quest

The beauty was so perfect,
that it felt ... almost cruel;
I could feel the pain in my bosom...
the pain of its perfection.

I could not look away,
I could not blink;
I forgot to draw the life-giving breath,
That sustains this fragile being...

The sounds of the stream,
swirling like a thousand free spirits,
playing at ring-A-roses,
around age-worn crags…
pulled me down, into depths so cold so sweet,
filled with such tragically soft promises ...
of heaven and honeysuckle...
the ecstasy was paralytic,
in its wholeness.
So long ... have I hunted for you,
years I have lusted for a drop
of this nectar...


Here ... finally
I can feel you, looking upon me,
feel your warmth caress my face;
I am home!
I am free !
A child of the earth,
a soul at peace.

Oh Lord! Let me rest here,
in the shadows of Your Grace;
these trappings of pretensions,
I can’t do anymore.
O! let me stay,
let me swathe my spirit,
in the balm of this quietude...
Let me float like an atom,
upon the winds
of freedom,
and soul.

Cold January mist

They roll in like a velvety surprise
after the sunsets,
and make me worry,
that the cold will spread
like a poison, through my being.
The chill that slows the rhythm
of my heart, will clutch
it so tight that it shall stand still
altogether.

The dying embers
of my passion-fire
sputters its last curses
upon the cinders,
fast turning to ashes.
I sit, hardly breathing,
listening to the soft tearing of the mist
as it slides
past my window.

As if
the mists were mystic spirits;
they float about me


eerily,
hiding the world from me;
and I delight,
in the anonymity
that they bestow
upon my senses.
These wisps
of vagrant cloud
are the magic
of January,
which kiss my soul
with a wet, tender passion,
and dissolve into dew
as though, saddened to tears
by my apathy.

Come hither, my love!

Come hither,my love,
lets hold hands one last time,
before you take the final bow
and I have to let you go.


Now come along...
just lets hold hands,
one last time before,
it's all long gone,and you're lost to me
in the sands of time.

Yes,come my love;
Yes! come away with me,
come,hold on to me,
hold onto this wrinkled palm,
you’ve loved so long,
and loved so well...


Just hold on...
my tender love!
I wish to imbibe your fragrance,
and forget that tomorrow
you will be gone…
And just tragic it is
that life will
have to go on...
just as now,
except for the lack of soul,
my story shall go on
yes, it shall go on,
come hither, my love this last morn.

Paper planes: Two

I fly them by the dozen
they need no names,
no passengers save
the wishes I alight upon them;
like fairy dust,
like the mesmeric heat of summer lust,
the essence of you upon my pillowcase,
the fragrance of your hair left…

Forever…

in my memory.

I fly these planes and in my mind,
serene,
they reach you…
today and every day,
on time,
never late,
for any dinner, you had cooked me,
for any party, you had thrown me,
for any anniversary we had together.


Unlike me,

so
unlike
me

Fly paper planes,
fly, fly away
and tell her,
“I’ll never be late
again.”


Ode to your innocence

You toy with the idea
of being my empathy;
you congratulate yourself
for the humanity
you extend unto me.

I smile at your eagerness,
I marvel at your youthful face.
I regret the coming dawn which will
denude you abruptly of all grace.

My senile world,
O innocent fairy!
I will keep veiled in my silence,
and let you smile in your sleep
as deep as the gurgling Nile,
while I stay up long into the dusks
and measure
the immeasurable
time.


That be love

I look mesmerized
at the drowning darkness
in your onyx like eyes,
I look at those lips,
ruby-red as though bled,
I look at that satin skin
smelling of peaches
as though lusting
for deglutition,
I look at you
and then pry my eyes away,
you could entice the devil into faith,
had you half the desire to it.
You could rob me of my sanity
had you been aware
I staked it...
You could have me snatch my heart out,
had you so desired to see it
beat.
You, so pure a deity,
would have me sell my soul
if that were the price
for a kiss.

Epilogue

What this minute is worth

All these choices,
All these notions.
All feasible,
All veritable solutions;
Which one is for me?
That‘s what I have to see;
The power I have today, castes
long shadows over my destiny.
Upon the shoulder of this second…
Lies the fate of a million more
In my “yes” of today
I can say “yes” forevermore.

This is all, I shall perhaps have,
This moment, when my mortal self shall
Purchase for my immortal self
A niche in the heavens above.

O my children, o my progeny
Would that
Within the shadow of this certainty
Shall I lay in my grave
with sweet dignity.


And shall you live too
sheltered from ignominy.

Be that my decision of today,
Become cause of some such fame,
That I steal a page for my name
In the book of tomorrow's history.
That in death...
Be dead, for only me
And yet, live on...
till Eternity.

Annotations

Page 14:

"Sometimes a broken heart needs denial to heal."

Page 15:

“Inspired by my year & a half old daughter who has the strange power to drive me to tears and then to make me smile through them as she licks my face like a little loving poodle!”

Page 20:

"Dedicated to a distant relative's distant memory. May your soul rest in peace, Amen."

Page 42:

Inspired by 'paper planes' penned by Rehan which left me sad enough to write this. Thanks for the inspirations friend!

Text: Copyright © 2010 Wardha Jawdat. All rights reserved. This book contains material protected by Copyright. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author. Layout and design: Faisal Mahmood Cover page: 'Mind Machine'. Copyright © 2010