parveentalpur

The Desert Woman

I remember,

Within the loose circle of a veil

A face strong, striking and pale

Bearing a Sphinx-like riddle

Its expression stoic, features intriguing

Chiseled sharply by piercing winds

Tanned darkly by the blazing sun

It called for a poet to feel its solidity

A historian to read the history engraved on it

In isolation it stood, in distance it was lost

Leaving its imprint on my memory

All these years after it keeps haunting

The only feature in the vast monotony of that desert

A rare ore amidst the grains of sand

Unread, unnoticed, unnamed

Insignificant and opposite of Ozymandias’ fame