Poems forever
By Sara Teasdale
I sought among the drifting leaves,
The golden leaves that once were green,
To see if Love were hiding there
And peeping out between.
For thro’ the silver showers of May
And thro’ the summer’s heavy heat,
In vain I sought his golden head
And light, fast-flying feet.
Perhaps when all the world is bare
And cruel winter holds the land,
The Love that finds no place to hide
Will run and catch my hand.
I shall not care to have him then,
I shall be bitter and a-cold —
It grows too late for frolicking
When all the world is old.
Then little hiding Love, come forth,
Come forth before the autumn goes,
And let us seek thro’ ruined paths
The garden’s last red rose.
By Ahmed Azlan Talha
I swept through the perils
conquering every level.
My esprits were high,
penetrating the sky.
My radiance was permeating the
impediment
Making the bane insignificant
I was neither down nor tired
That battlefield was no longer a
dilemma.
I was filled with fervour and elation
My victory was certain and full of
jubilation.
And then came the moment of joy
The energies integrated and came a ploy
The foe, defeated, was on the knees
My sword was graceful with euphoric breeze
And I stood there with triumphant visage
With chants echoing my spark, "Brave heart, Brave heart, Brave heart""
By Amna Ameer
Explain to me what it feels like
To hit the ground
Does it hurt
Or are you numb
I don't know
All I can say
Is that in that moment
You no longer want to live
And each speck of your existence
Feels like a rebellion
And the fact that you're still breathing
Feels like a laborious task
Years of not feeling like you're worthy
Is summed up in that instance
You ought to believe it by now
That you're not needed
That you're a waste of space?
Why else would the world
Be bound to take away your light
And your thoughts
Why do they want to scrape you clean
What is written on this slate?
Is it the truth
Something that pinches them from within?
They can't say it
But they feel it
The way you see right through them
And there's nothing there
So they get threatened
To be exposed
And they use the most primal weapon
Of dominance and dissonance
And try to overcome
What was never meant to be there's
A possession of sorts
When you never were destined to be caged
When will I find my voice
And courage to say what it actually is
I can no longer live my life
To be someone else's
Saving grace
By Abid Agha
She was like a bright, golden,
sunny day to me.
And, I was like a spring shower to her.
When we met…
Suddenly, glittering colours
of the rainbow showered.
On the skies decorated with
the floating clouds.