One thing, I like the most;
Of pain, It doesn't step back;
Of the obligations out of lack
And even never let you lost.


The condiment of the pain:
It just Burns-in your vein;
Never quenched but remain,
Like a flame of the chain.


It didactics integrity:
Of the virtual connection in the middle-
Of pair of insanity, who never fiddle,
With each other the game of animosity.


Composed by Urooba Fatima.

In this world, I am all alone
But, loneliness enclosed me;
A true meaningful home
Which, I stand by the spiritual brick:
That any wild wind unable to flick,
I embellish this home with the flame-
Of true guidance, by taking his name.
The door and windows of this home:
Always welcoming all the passers-by;
Who lost the real way.



Composed by Urooba Fatima.

The death is inevitable;
It can't be avoidable,
One day you will taste it
And become memorable:
What thing makes you so comfortable,


You aren't going to stay here till,
The day of resurrection befall:
You just have to pay back!
Of all the things, which you wrack,
And then you can't elude your fate at all.


That's all about the story of death,
Which you can't do it bequeath:
It is the thing which you alone endure;
Without explicitly any word for sure!
It's the result of you will reap what you sow.




Composed by Urooba Fatima.