Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2018
It was green before this torment
It was jovial before this storm
There was no stinging tear
But, the clamouring of fleer
My heart throbs with every breath
For I have swallowed a venomous drink of fear
My eyes are searching for a life
An intimate being they do seek
The winds whispered in my ear
β€˜All those are gone and some disappeared.’
The foul odor around is burning my soul
And the bawling of dismay is all I can hear
For the night is restless and it beseeches aid
I, here, stand still with my back on a spear
The world will recite my story, it will celebrate this day
And will sleep somehow after the vigils on the graves
Yet how I shall find the one who gave me birth?
And will he pay for my dreams with a fatherly stare?
Solace is not what I require
Words will no longer prevail
For I do not feel anything
It is now an eternal pain
The world has become a chaos pit.
Afia
Written by
Afia  22/F/Lahore, Pakistan
(22/F/Lahore, Pakistan)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems