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Amna Khan Jun 12
Screaming in silent hues
Into the sky, diffuse
Like my mind that I abused
My trepidation from it oozed.

I try to keep, but in vain
My broken thoughts inside my brain
Out of control, they proved bane
Never content within their terrain

And when all is ordained and said
I look down at my palms with dread
Glaring in disgrace and sins of red
The person in the mirror is dead
Constructive criticism is appreciated. I'm on Instagram as @amna.writes.sometimes
Amna Khan Jun 8
They warn
"The Devil's spawn is what you are after."
Then why do I see
halos draped over you,
like a regal cape
your sturdy shoulders, your neck claims;
just like how once
my sinful hands did.
Constructive criticism is always appreciated.
Follow me on Instagram: @amna.writes.sometimes
Amna Khan Jun 7
The Heavens are closer
to Earth tonight
to sing for you
and hold you in their silk arms.
But you are frowning at the sidewalk,
looking for pieces
of your broken heart.
Just look up, darling.
Constructive criticism is welcome.
On Instagram as @amna.writes.sometimes
Amna Khan Jun 6
Maybe if I write about you
my heart will be at ease;
maybe the butterflies will stop.
I can't acknowledge you
because then,
I'll have to admit to crimes
that even I don't know I've committed.
Constructive criticism is always welcome.
Amna Khan May 12
The clouds grumble
as if on cue
with my rage.
My palms streak the lightning
with utmost familiarity.
A pet loyal as ever;
always awaiting
the slightest nod
to curse all who ever belittled me.
Amna Khan May 4
The sprinkled moondust
hovering above the wisps of clouds,
veil the puzzle pieces
as they linger
in the pools of wisdom
left behind by the sages,
where the thinkers have bathed
and left their sorrows,
to come out immaculate;
leaving a legacy
for the new intellectuals to put together.
Comment if you liked any specific parts of my poem. Constructive criticism is appreciated.
Amna Khan May 4
The night fills my lungs
with whispers ancient.
Singing in my ears
so fondly.
I'm afraid that if it goes on
I'll melt right there
in it's velvet touch;
for no one
but the night
has ever loved me that way.
Comment if you liked any specific parts of my poem. Constructive criticism is always welcome.
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