RUMMAGE THE REMAINS

Not far
From thy altar
I remain aloof
To count
My beads of faith
In that broken lights
Whose system
Fail in truths
With the sounds of conchs
Jingle bells, and
The minarets  of 'Azan'

My heart swells
Like an empty dome
With, only an echo
To tell the story
Into my blank past

My dead selves, groan
Bleating deep
For a rescue
To higher things

Not far
From thy love
I remain thirsty
To gurgle
Thy nectar drink
In that empty belly
Whose indigestion
Pushes out food
In nausea and vomit

My heart heave
The last respite
Like a twig
Broken from its branches-green

My silence
Rummage the remains
For a waft
To higher things, above!