Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed ...
Poets Corner
By Percy Bysshe Shelley
I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desart. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
No thing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
*****
By Memoona Mukhtar
The fear of losing the goal,
The fear of losing loved ones,
The fear of the unknown,
The fear of stepping forward,
Why is it always there,
Within a corner of my mind,
Persisting slowly,
Not letting me move on,
But, let me decide it,
Once and for all,
I have two options left,
To be fearful or to be resilient,
Sticking to either one is hard,
But the decision would be mine,
To become the past or to live in the future,
It isn't a game of success and failure,
It's a game of survival,
To be or not to be.
By Gulnaz Khair Bakhsh
Eyes bear a lot of tears,
Nobody offers solace and care,
Shattered soul gets up and falls again;
Still hope in the weary eyes begin,
Dimly, time grabs the wounds,
Nothing remains except the empty sounds,
Grief wraps light and creates fear,
Though time passes and swallows tears,
Eyes capture all the awful miseries,
The destroyed and deserted life of Tess,
The mournful sacrifice of Sydney Carton,
That makes everyone forlorn,
And the revenge of Hamlet;
Fill out life with multiple twists,
Where eyes merely remain spectators,
Of crowded and pretending theatres,
Oh, the withered eyes,
Behold the beckoning wave of thirsty seas.
*****
