There she casts a mercurial veil

On a land perched ever so high.

Above the mountains,

Inviolable to the touch,

The sky was her fortress.

Her beauty was deemed ethereal,

Epistles written one after another,

Her sanctity gazed upon.

But why, she wondered,

Must her semblance be culled?

Her strength never reached an impasse

Though she was the collateral in other's wars

Against themselves.

The black heavens elevate her name.

Ever in variance her heart arrests the tune,

The tune of our affliction.

Followed by the clamour

Of our salvation.

When the apex of your forlorn body is upwards,

You can hear the cravings of her melody.

 Etched on the endless, abysmal sky,

And in there you shall witness

The fragility of the earth.

She rests in the chasm

Blended by the dark

Amid the blizzards of the starlight

Without the ark.

A soulful marriage of the velvet dark

And the soft spoken truth.

A music for the eyes,

She is the moon.  

The writer has completed HSC from Bir Shreshtha Noor Mohammad Public College, Dhaka.