A DESERT STONE WILL TURN TO GOLD
IN COMPANY WITH THOSE WHO KNOE
YOU ASK MY LOVE ABOUT MY TEAR
BUT DONT YOU RECOGNISE THE FEAR
THEY AGONIZE MY FEAR?
WERE NOTE YOUR INFIDILITY
TORTUNING ME SO CRUELLY
MY SORROW WOULD DEPERT


BY IKRAMULLAH JANI

Awake arise The  hour is late
Angle are knocking at the door
They are in hast and cannot wait
And once departed come no more


Awake Arise The athlets arm
Loses its strength by too much rest
The fallow land the untilled farm
Produses only weeds at best

BY IKRAM ULLAH JANI