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I think I'm better six feet under,
Lay me to rest and let everyone wonder,

What happened they will enquire,
A soul,that's buried deep down an empire,

Has no one tried to save her at all?
They put her out of her misery as they watched her fall.

Into the deep abyss she struggled,
To watch the life get ****** out of her while she suffered,

For a breath she gasped,
With bloodshot eyes and bleeding hands she grasped,

Onto the hope of living,
But her blood wouldn't stop spilling

A girl that now lies on her back,
Full of pain and sorrow and a heart painted black,

Suffered to revive from a hard fall,
To let go of her past she couldn't at all,

She got the strength to get up and try,
And go out with the phrase "I'm fine"she will lie,

She Decided to go out and explore the world,
Yet in her own mind she's still trapped with all her thoughts curled,

She looked around and thought to herself,
Where has humanity left and the sanity of oneself?

Yet she continued down that dark path,
Only to find herself overflowing with wrath,

The rage of what the world has become,
The feeling inside of her ever so numb..

The heat surrounded her speechless tongue,
With air flowing to her burning lung,

She looked up into what seemed like a sky,
For all shades of red she saw with her naked eye,

She was now alone in what seemed to be the middle of nowhere,
She sought for a soul,but her loneliness she couldn't bare,

A girl that would die for her freedom,
Not realising that death had its own price in this kingdom,

She tried to find a way out, with a throat too gashed to yell,
That's when the devil whispered,
Welcome to hell.

--
 Nov 2014 Rana Ayman
CapsLock
Used to be stuck,
so firmly rooted.
Like the ugly duck
had to be re-routed.

Fearfully and unluck,
my soul was muted.
Until to me struck,
and for once, all I disputed.

Can't do what's right
so I'll do what's left.
I'll follow this light
until my soul I put to rest.
 Oct 2014 Rana Ayman
Isha Kumar
I met her once
a little, blind girl
who had let me
inside her wonderful world.

Yes, she couldn't see,
the girl with eyes bright.
Yet, she loved her world
like she never lost her sight.

She heard the music
of the breeze that blew.
The love for her world,
it only grew.

She acquainted me with
that music she heard,
from the buzz of the bees
to the chirping of the birds.

Yes, she couldn't see
the wonders of life.
Yet, she smiled
without a sign of strife.

She had beautiful eyes
filled with wonder.
I stood speechless and thought
how could God make such a blunder?

She danced and sang
with a graceful twirl.
How she loved her life
the little, blind girl.

She smiled and laughed,
her face filled with joy.
With wonder in her eyes,
she was serene, yet coy.

She felt her world
beneath her tiny fingers
and on me left a mark
that would forever linger.

Yes, she couldn't see
the life that she felt.
Yet, she never showed
the sorrow that she dealt.

Her world was dark.
Yet,  she saw
the Earth's true form
pure and raw.

Yes, she let me in.
But I couldn't overstay.
So, I excused myself politely
and quietly walked away.

I had met her once
a little girl who couldn't see.
Yes, she was a child
but the happiest there could ever be
Probably one of my best works. I'm pretty proud of it. ^_^
Her eyes,
filled with sorrow and lies.
Her heart,
slowly falling apart.
Her smile,
its been fake for a while.
Her wrists,
carved with perfect slits.
She's depressed and alone,
her voice is a mere drone.

No one there to listen to her,
but, then again, who would even care?
Who are you
to toy with her heart
play with her innocence
tear her apart?

Who are you
to place a kiss
slowly and lovingly
upon her lips?

Who are you
to destroy her after?
You've had your fun
you're filled with laughter.

Who are you
to make her fall in love
promise her the world
let her fly like a dove?

But this dove
doesn't fly anymore.
You destroyed her heart
left her aching and sore.

Now this girl
whose heart you defeated
she doesn't understand
she feels alone and depleted.


To all the girls,
you're not a toy.
You're worth so much more,
than some stupid boy.
/
When you are growing as a poet
your pain is pining to born a poetry
where there are too many clouds of emotions gathering,
also a pensive mood longing
then the thunder of thoughts growing,
your paper is awaiting for the first word
as I was waiting for you, my love
when you were coming slowly
then words of rain raining,
automatically,
randomly

When the first raindrop pings on the pond
even you don't know when it will be stopped
how far it will be covered
which path it will be taken
even its density,
dignity,
or the diversity

Your first word inks on the paper
you don’t know when it will be finished
which way the words will be taken
even you don't know
its size or style,
its fashion or the scheme

Either it's a long or a short
or even a sonnet or a verse
even its rhyming
or the rhythm

You should not think about its length
of course words grow as long as
the metaphors can travel
through its thoughts of cohesion
and its feelings moving
naturally,
poetically

You should not count the words
or even you can't stop within a limit
it makes your thoughts imperfect
rather you can tell totally
about the life,
or can tell about
the love easily
or beyond the life spontaneously

The words can grow 3,5,7
lines for a haiku
or even it goes for a mile for an epitaph
or more for an epic  

Poetry executes through words
words come from thoughts
thoughts come from the emotions
and ends with the wisdom
/
@ Musfiq us shaleheen
Tribute to Robert Frost, my beloved poet
Based on the theme and thoughts of Robert Frost.
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