When the trust is broken,
And the words are just spoken:
You never give your ears on them;
It never gains the grip which's already loosen.


The words become the unknown,
It never reaches your heart again:
The thing no one can understand;
The words are just not a word-


It belongs to the epic story,
Which has the connection in past glory!
But people just smashed the bygone memory; Making their present to forget the trust's worry.



Composed by Urooba Fatima.

Let me burn in the pain,
Which is almost stir in my vein:
I have seen a lot of double faces men;
They use humans as playing any game!


I do the same and receive the same,
Why did I forget this world this triviality;
But a place where you gain all of your vulgarity:
Outcomes that you have done with the lame.



It's a play of *** for tak, no one can do change-
The law of the game, just play it without derange:
It is compelled your wit to be utilized for gaining;
The secure niche, where you spend your being.



Composed by Urooba Fatima.

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.

There are few people, who just met;
By chance but I don't want them to let:
Away from my being, because they all-
Are meant to become a part of my well
And their presences provide a wonderful,
Essence in my spirit that makes me thoughtful.


These all are called friends,
With whom we want our time spends;
But a good friend is who:
He will remain in your side,
When you are all in blue!
He will be there for your way guide.


With them, we share all the things,
Without shy coming between;
They just become the wings:
Which help us to fly without any mean,
Friends really are a prestigious gift of god;
Without them, this world seems very odd.


Composed by Urooba Fatima.

I am hung up in the middle,
Of two whims of my brain:
which puts me ever into the riddle;
Without seeking any help to Explain.



This thing twist my appearance-
Without showing any mercy:
All the time, I have to show adherence;
It is fallen on me like a worse misery.


But can not do to someone complain;
Because it is my mumbo-jumbo earth;
Of my brain, it never let anyone gain,
The control of its entity at any worth.




Composed by Urooba Fatima

How it could be great,
If we release our worry-
On a surge of windy thread!
And make ourselves free to scurry:
In making decisions for future;
And let the remaining things on the air to nurture.

As the wind is capable for things to move -
In the directions where it lays toward !
And all the place becomes home as a prove:
Of obstinating nature of wind to forward;
As a headstrong and passionate creation,
That remove all obstacle that cause separation.

From the way in which wind wants to head!
But worries always cause  ebb and flow:
As life has to deal with lot of high and low,
It can not take strong-headed decision to lead-
As wind, is free spirit to be captivate;
That's why worries and wind can not relate.



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.

My dearest past kindly just passed:
Without reminiscing me you vast;
I healed my wounds which you've given
Now, I don't have any leverage to bear it again.


Just go away from myself without giving pain:
It is the only thing which I really urge till last;
I admire your all bygone fair days those are passed,
In which no room for me to keep my present.

My beloved past kindly just passed,
There's no one who likes your downcast:
So, It is better to sneak yourself out;
From my existence, without giving me clout.



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.