Hyperbole

Let me first remove thee of all

vicissitudes of the sky,

that in vague impressions of poetry,

before my eyes in the public eye,

so sickening to the bones my love

of unnerved blood in vein:

a pensive feeling to fill my heart

with so much of extravaganza,

whiggery! of thy presence more,

and more beauty of things abound,

pours forth in e'erything,

false quirks of the mind in ill-omen

this empty mirror to the star hath rent a veil,

to where the world of your dreamland,

goes soaring high above the dale,

of untread places in waste hands of time.

(C) Naveed Khalid