The pen drops
Thy settled thoughts shudder
As i try to paint
They soak in colours
From the alongside the horizon's a rainbow
And thee heart melts
The lame thin walls almost damn
The melancholy of hurried people
A dew drops in thee soul
Across the sky a light glistens
So sore;
And in snare
My heart listens.
Even the nightfall speaks
Of endless times
And in tragedy,
It's me, fariha.
1 comments:
i think you are really really good with words, i mean i read all of your posts and all i can say is wow.... i think i'll post something on each of them... only that i got to think about each and every one as a first read is only a rock skimming the surface... and then the ripples come...
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