Cursed..

Cursed is the one,

Who feels and feels deeply..

In a world, made of nothing

but stone.

Advertisements

The healer!

Shall I not devote my heart,

To the One who holds the mountains firm,

And a myriad of stars in perfect constellations..

For my heart is made of glass..

With a thousands cracks running through..

-Hira Chaudhry

Behold

Been to the mountains of Everest,

and grasses evergreen..

My mother’s wrinkled hands,

the prettiest sight

I’ve ever seen..

Restless

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

Surrender

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 escape 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: upthehill.devaintart.com

Kayaking

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..

Lost

They place, one wound after another..

Sword after sword..

I bleed, from my chest and my eyes..

But I don’t scream..

Numb, I stare, far into the desert..

Still searching..

For something to live for, to fight back..