Who is the witness?

In frame : a rose in winter.

this winter reeks of charming marshmallows,
the fire beneath my skinny bones
breaks into someone’s house
and burns
the desires of the world,
the epiphany of the afterlife
that withers in the thoughts
almost as uncertain as the snow
falling in the city of heat

this winter is a deathless grief,
surrendering to the faith
of the lonely old man
who wakes up at Fajr
to recall His call,
unless the sun manifests
as lust,
and the day wrecks
into citrus reveries
causing sins from midnight.

who is the witness here?
to see if you and I
are humans
or just a piece of flesh
with aspirations
of an heavenly soul.



One thought on “Who is the witness?

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