Zain Syed

 

 

I walk through the field but what will I find?
A young fawn in the grass, his death close behind.
I sneak up the hill then down around.
My body is pure as is my mind.

 

I walk through the woods but what do I seek?
A slain stag in the dirt, his blood in the creek.
The slug in his gut nowhere to be found,
he's stronger in death, no longer weak.

​

I walk through the house but what is my strife?
An empty home, a cold hole with no wife.
Though birds sing outside, I do not hear a sound.
I lay down my head and dream of new life.