The Rising

They dance
Enraptured, singing praise,
disciples and their master all,
Down
With their knees on the ground,

the ugly writers
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The Rising

Voices of the mist call

When the silence

Of late nights prevail

The winter winds blow

And the charred skies unveil

All

Who guard

The secret word,

in unison

Chant

To summon

the mighty one

Who lurks in shadows

And answers the disciples’ call

…. But even together they fail

To decipher the

Meanings

Of her poetic musings

Her verse cryptic, dark, transcendental

Artistic, full of madness, enchanting

And subliminal…

Their oldest secrets,

Occult chants…

She weaves intricately

within her verse.

They dance

Enraptured, singing praise,

disciples and their master all,

Down

With their knees on the ground,

The insane fervour

Takes over as

All hail

The rising Queen

 

Catch more of Maryam Viqar with her previous poems at The Ugly Writers or by clicking on any of her works below:

call me home  man who can't be named  

And catch her on Instagram at Myrapoems

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