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Feb 2019
this world is at its best show..faces of varied appear in fraction of seconds when i walk, and in my dreams they haunt me..people , likewise this time are on their moves, at their best, not an err not a sin, not a punishment,its just that they are people...of different colors and language and thoughts and ambitions...

y the color of land is getting dark with sunset..i watch it every evening from my window, it never speaks..it never complains...but y today i feel the essence of pain flowing from West and my heart sinking down,....silence is a pin, an unbearable pain, that resides in me, like dead quieteness after horrible storm in lonely vast desert..my heart has gone dusty like that brown desert where warm winds play their games on and off and with each breaking of dawn it prepares itself for another tiring day.....


and and and and and and and and
I tryyyy
but but but but but but but but but
i am tryinggg
scratching it, rubbing it
its red v v v v red
wash it
or
throw it away
trembling, trembling, tremb... shhhh
they will lissen,world is ending
and...
.....
......
i need sleep, long sleep....


somewhere in my halts, my silence speaks..but no one here is to lissen,,may b if they wud, no one is here to understand.,.there is long silence,, awkward silence..like a prostitutes keeps to her while dancing, an enigmatic silence, like a pain she keeps while laughing, a strange laugh, a weird smile....like a blindness in her gaze, a strange , deep gaze....


i soak myself in their colors,
and i forget me, in this play
they favor me of reminding all this
and with wide artificial smile, i negate.
my existance as if has gone burdened
on me as if, i am loading weight in tons
yet moving at ease, fleeing!!



some words are never meant to have any meanings..infact my any word doesnot keep any meaning..its all in space, its all alien..i myself is unaware...i myself wonder...

do i need to mention my identity?
Hira malik
Written by
Hira malik  31/F/Pakistan
(31/F/Pakistan)   
163
 
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