Death

I know to call him back
To my doorstep, to myself.
He knows I’ll welcome him
With wide opened arms..
Once he had touched my lips
As a small white tablet
Before I could taste him
Didn’t know why he retrieved.
Now my ways are dark
Past is burning in throat
When days ahead rumble to frighten me
I know I should call him back…

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About Fathima Manal

Dreams,fantasies,words and rhythm-other than skin,bones and muscles I am made up of these.With every drop of blood that my heart pumps,a new dream forms in me.With every breathe,i take the surroundings too inside me.And my poems are just the minute regurgitants of what i accumulate within. I am a doctor from Kerala,India,who should not be supposed to but is in deeply love with words and books more than medical books.Hope you enjoy my poems......

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