For Ijaz

He said I carried an ice sword
I denied
For I do not advocate violence.
I told him I stand in a room
Which had walls made of ice
He said he wanted to melt them.
I warned him
“This feat is impossible”
He said he wanted to try.
“Are you immortal?” he urged.
I am not,
But my soul is.
And will remain so.
“I want to be your soul mate”
He can’t be.
Not until the walls melt.
“I want to melt the walls.”
I repeated the warning
My patience still thick as ever.
He wanted to understand.
I needed to explain.
I said
“As long as I stand within the ice
I remain unharmed.
Once it melts,
I fall to pieces.”
He understood.
He said he remembered the past.
“A few days back there,
That’s all I want.”
Ah! How well do I know that longing?
So I said gently
How I understood.
With a sad tone in his words;
“There are so many things
Left incomplete.
I wish I could do them now.”
How I understood that subtle pain,
The sifted regret,
The forceful need to accept.
And as the pain began to sharpen
I said;
“If we had done everything then,
There would be nothing impossible
To wish for now.”


And with no more words
We glimpsed each others pain
And touched each others souls.


And I sat alone once more
Within my walls of ice,
I sharpened my sword.