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 Jun 2017
Mohd Arshad
The continuum of cries
Run through the bruised walls
And the fissures
Open their jaws wide
To gulp them
And then spit them out
After chewing their skins
The windows speak in Bells
As the wind high or low
Passes by and gets in
The roof doesn't cover the head
It sieves the thickest sands
My granny had hung a lamp
In the middle of the door
That makes one cower
To the porch and then out
In the ashes of evening
The building balloons to the city
And people whisper
Sleep, the Dracula is on the move
 Jun 2017
Mohd Arshad
Poetry
Is
Itself
A ghost
But it doesn't haunt one
Only reminds him he had left him in the drawer to suffocate....
 Jun 2017
Mohd Arshad
aws
Night is golden
If the day is spent for good deeds......
 Jun 2017
Mohd Arshad
Swagger
Is everything

It is worth
Spending a lot
For its sake
 Jun 2017
Mohd Arshad
Haiku
Is
a wide
landscape
Through telescope
 Jun 2017
Mohd Arshad
Touched by the sharp thorn,
The butterfly flutters much;
The insects do buzz
 Jun 2017
Mohd Arshad
evi
Swim out of social evils
Life will be a butterfly amid roses
 Jun 2017
Mohd Arshad
Our deeds
Are the invitation
To different styles of Death's arrival.....
 Jun 2017
Mohd Arshad
Rage is just a puncture in a mind......
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