Here lies a conversation from my poetry shelf.
Based on betwixt me and myself.

ME: Hello! My dear!! This is ‘Me’.
MYSELF: O! Hello!! This is ‘Myself’ as you can see.

ME: Yes, I recognize ‘Myself’ as you.
MYSELF: And I am ‘Me’ that’s nothing new.

ME: You and me together in the same zone?
MYSELF: Yes, indeed as we can’t be alone.

ME: But as I know you, you love the evil!
MYSELF: The secrets of mine you shouldn’t reveal.

ME: I should, for certain, as I have to make you good.
MYSELF: I can’t be so as I love being rude.

ME: But I love being good and that’s what I care.
MYSELF: I’ll make you a devil, yes! I swear! 

ME: O! How dare you say that! How dare! 
MYSELF: Evil deeds I do and there’s nothing unfair.

ME: Good things to me are not at all rare.
MYSELF : I let ‘myself’ repeat and ‘myself’ I can bear.

MYSELF: If you dwell within me please be bad.
ME: If you can be good, I will be glad.

MYSELF: Behold! You holy fool! You are out of track.
ME: You are my duality I need to crack.

MYSELF: We are the same spirit deep within us.
ME: Feed your spirit well, You soul mischievous! 

MYSELF: You are ‘Me’ so we can’t be separated.
ME: You are ‘Myself’ so I’m getting frustrated.

MYSELF: Let’s forget each other, no need to be hated.
ME: But what about the things- not yet estimated?

MYSELF: Wrong-doings I do hundred times a day.
ME: Never in my life as I am made of clay.

MYSELF: I do my bad deeds, you do your good.
ME: But you weren’t so in our days of childhood.

MYSELF: This world makes me so, what can you say?
ME: What d’ you mean by this world? Whom should I pray?

MYSELF: I mean my soil which is vitiated like hell.
ME: Don’t feel so wicked, don’t hide into the shell.

MYSELF: I want to be worse, whatever comes may.
ME: I will make you good day by day.

MYSELF: You’ll be dissolved by my demonic ray.
ME: Before my sacred soul you’ll be at bay.

MYSELF: I will kill you then and get the ten out of ten.
ME: Please be good save your countrymen.

MYSELF: They are all serpents with the venomous voice.
ME: I must make them good, have no other choice.

MYSELF: You’ll fail to do that, my dear good fellow.
ME: Why such combat that seems so hollow?

MYSELF: It’s between ourselves please try to swallow.
ME: Then please be ‘DEAD’ in this life so shallow.

MYSELF: Let me try if I can, my very own ‘me’.
ME: Then best of luck, myself! if you truly can be.
copyright © Munia Khan all rights reserved

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