The breeze carried laughter we didn’t notice then, Moments folded into the rhythm of falling drops....
Poems forever
By Percy Bysshe Shelley
The awful shadow of some
unseen Power
Floats though unseen among us; visiting
This various world with as
inconstant wing
As summer winds that creep from
flower to flower;
Like moonbeams that behind
some piny mountain shower,
It visits with inconstant glance
Each human heart and countenance;
Like hues and harmonies of evening,
Like clouds in starlight widely spread,
Like memory of music fled,
Like aught that for its grace may be
Dear, and yet dearer for its mystery.
By Abid Agha
After a long silence, I heard the rain’s voice—
Calling me gently from my room.
I cupped the raindrops in my waiting hands,
Looked to the sky, and closed my eyes.
Like a thirsting soul, I drank its touch,
But the rain, so soft, stirred old memories.
It rained like this that distant day—
The day we sat together,
Cradling cups of fragrant coffee,
Listening to the whispers of rain drops
The breeze carried laughter we didn’t notice then,
Moments folded into the rhythm of falling drops.
That was our final rendezvous—
Not with sorrow, but with silence.
No goodbyes, just fading words
Her footprints linger still in falling rain,
Casting shadows through the mist.
I follow them sometimes in thought,
On paths we never finished walking.
Now, as I stand beneath the weeping sky,
My tears fall once more—
Mingling with the drops,
Etching sorrow on the ground.
Yet somewhere in this gentle rain,
I find a fragile kind of peace—
For though she’s gone, the rain remembers.
The rain remembers.
By Amna Ameer
When the once barren branches
Weigh down with blossoms,
And the city bleeds
With hues of red and crimson,
The roads once dreaded
Suddenly usher in
The cold wisp of spring.
In the hot summer sun,
A shade of old memory—
And a reminder
For the heart:
A body that once loses
May not be forever lost.
The same branches
Once again behold life.
Beauty once again
Lends its sweet scent
To wistful eyes.
Healing, albeit not linear,
Comes around full circle.
Some seasons, now I know,
Are for letting go,
And others are for receiving
With arms wide open
And a heart that still hopes.
By Mahnoor Ghous
I wonder why, I wonder how
I became this bitter, this sour.
It’s hard to believe
What I’ve become—
This isn’t me.
So rude, so blunt...
I used to be kind, so gentle.
When did I turn foul and cruel?
But nothing happens without a reason.
If I’ve changed, there must be a cause.
Ask yourself—what triggered it?
You changed me, once and for all.
All your lies, all your actions,
You caused this pain, left me to burn—
And didn’t bother what would become.
Now here you are, standing before me,
Looking at the aftermath of your brutality,
Pretending like you don’t know anything.
This heart you broke—
Once? Twice? No, more times than I can count.
It used to be delicate, soft as snow.
But every time I tried to piece it together,
It turned more into stone.
Yes, I’ve changed—yes, I know.
But I feel stronger than I’ve ever been before.
