It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll....
POETS’ CORNER
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.
Excerpted from Invictus by William Ernest Henley
The Expressionless
By Laraib Zakir
A look so vacant
They can’t make of anything
Impassive is what befits the characteristics
Inexpressively personified
The deadpan face obstructs communication
Devoid of smile
Stone cold, why give so much work to the muscles?
Indistinct, there is little to differentiate
No one can ever read, of what’s actually happening
Vague and icy, may go hand in hand
There is nothingness in her eyes
For those who can’t see
A look so vacant
They can’t make of anything.
Alone
By Ayesha Malik
Standing in the middle of a crowd
Fed up of the chatter piercing and loud
What is all the hype I can’t understand?
Nothing has changed from where I stand
Despite the faces and the titles
The personas differ only a little
Mesmerizing is the interest of the mob
In the mundane lives and silly jobs
Hurrying, scurrying hither and thither
I watch the little mice scatter and litter
Alone is the word that comes to mind
Since all are stuck in a perpetual rewind.
Stolen canvas
By Shanziala Fatymah
Come find my broken pieces
Then you solve the mystery
“What is it?” You ask me
This is the tale of disruption
These characters are null of feelings
She dreamt to touch the sky
It ended before she could fly
Her destiny was light
She was forced to live in darkness
She once loved to live in colours
Now all she wants is dark
She was the painter of her life
This world stole her canvas
Game of chess
By Mehma Kunwar
Life went on
like a game of chess,
there are rules for movement
and bad choices are a curse
no one asked the queen if
she, too, was fed up
of black and white,
dark and light -
because who will save the game,
if the queen roamed free?
who will run the war,
if the pawn was softly heard?
who will win and lose,
if the white king befriended
the black?
I wouldn’t want to try to win,
if this war gives me anxiety
In order to be saved
I have to be free.
Regain
By Mashaal Farid
In a sweat drenching afternoon
When I lost thy beauty
Silence crept through me
What meant feelings,
Were more of a duty
Mine that swept,
Was the hand I held
Then,
When moments poured in hours
And hours in years
Rhymes dripping melodies I hear
Enchanting temple bells
With long dried flutes to dwell
Yeah, certainly light stroked
Had it failed to provoke
Though,
It touched with the first drop
And a while, with the beat, to hop
Took that legion sand bulbs
For me to believe
Into you, wallowing my shreds, to weave
But now...
Dear Rain,
I’ve fallen in love with you
All over, again!
Chapter of agony
Binte Hawa
The chapter of agony
Has no end till the end,
It’s mortal,
It’s morbid,
It’s diseased,
But quite assuring
Till it pleases,
The pain itself,
The hollow
Sorrows
That it leads,
Outsung
By the melancholy
Of poignant
Unease
Compiled by SK
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