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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/notebook/raffiamukhtarz
Please follow an 18+ rating.*
"From years"
Come along and presume the pain in my eyes,
The drops of tears trickling from years.
Hear my hail hearing from the vale,
The memoir, the going is a treasure of pain.
Spy my blood rolling like a spring,
And my heart erecting like a pinning leave.
Tis barely my heart not a pedestal of stone,
Tis barely young sighs not your pump of game.
How can I umbra you how can I enlighten you o my lovely vale,
My eyes my body marking like a shady shade.
Why should you tormenting why should we intimidating
Why should you not follow the lapse of stinging.
Let me cry a times more,more in a wold ground,
Let me die a times more,more with a sermon of freedom on my mouth.
Oh!Mr.Authority unveil some humanity,
Tis merely my instinctive anger,avouching and crying from years.....

( For Kashmir). ~raffia


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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/notebook/raffiamukhtarz