Where are you now? Who lies beneath your spell tonightbefore you agonize him in farewell tonight?
Pale hands that once loved me beside the Shalimar:
Whom else from rapture's road will you expel tonight?
Those "Fabrics of Cashmere–" "to make Me beautiful–"
"Trinket"–to gem–"Me to adorn–How–tell"–tonight?
I beg for haven: Prisons, let open your gates
A refugee from Belief seeks a cell tonight.
And I, Shahid, only am escaped to tell thee
God sobs in my arms. Call me Ishmael tonight.
You can read more about the poet in the Saudi Aramco Article, http://www.saudiaramcoworld.com/issue/200104/a.gift.of.ghazals.htm
or you can visit the publisher http://www.nortonpoets.com/alia.htm
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