They say they created borders, to divide the land..

To make it secure..

Ironic, they ended up dividing the people..

Making love obscure..



Hold my hand and run away,

Far from the city lights..

To spend a night in the forest,

Hear the birds sing a lullaby..

To watch the wild game of survival,

As the little deer learns to fight..

See the rain kiss the earth,

An anticipated reunion with the sky..

Hold my hand and run away,

To the mountain shining bright..

Let’s fall, in love then stray away,

Till we carelessly learn to fly..

©Hira Chaudhry

Image courtesy: Pixabay


Forever together,

But never becoming one..

You and I,

Like the glowing horizon…


Bring me the warmth,

of the lies of your love..

It’s been too cold,

too true..


She looks like a star from a distance, you’d wish to stare at for a while..

Making the darkest nights glow with a simple touch, a single smile..

But when you get closer only to find, that she is no star but a lost meteorite..

Struggling to survive on a lonely planet, now that it’s home is destroyed..

She weaves a perfect web around herself, enslaving her soul inside..

I keep searching for a loophole to free her and take it to the mountains wide..

Neither her love, nor her beauty, there’s nothing that I ask for..

Just an urge to heal a wound, on an angelic soul so kind and pure..

So why don’t you take my hand, and let me ease your pain..

When you’ve got nothing to lose, and I have nothing to gain..

®Hira Chaudhry

Image courtesy:


He loved triangles, so he decided to gift me one..

Ever since I’m enclosed in it, always on a run..

On one end there’s love, and birds and a pair of rings..

On other end there’s hate, and a pair of broken wings..

I stand on the third end, while it tears my soul apart..

You stand on each end, staring at my broken heart..

©Hira Chaudhry

®Image courtesy: Fine Art America


On a moonlit night, listening to stories untold…

Or a warm summer morning, like melted gold..

The rusty old shoes, the same necklace of pearls..

The same old songs and her hair in perfect curls..

In the deafening peace of a snowy winter night..

The clock ticked louder, reminding of it’s might..

But everything at the sea was forever changing..

Change is life, thus the old man loved kayaking..