Cursed..

Cursed is the one,

Who feels and feels deeply..

In a world, made of nothing

but stone.

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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..

Elastic hearts

They walk around the streets,

Wearing perfume on their sleeves..

Looking to share everything but trust,

Laughing for hours but crying first..

Holding hands but shadows apart,

With bodies of stone and elastic hearts..

©Hira Chaudhry

© Image courtesy: Fine art America

Paint..

The color of your soul, is precisely what my darkness seeks..

The compelling strokes of your brush, creating wild ocean peaks..

These cravings that evoke me, more than I’d like to confess..

The touch of your fingertips, for my body is your canvas..

Segregated

Born with lips so beautiful, but couldn’t utter a word..

Sitting for hours at the window watching the one-legged bird..

Bullied at the school for being so eccentric..

Abused by father for always being a skeptic..

On a mid summer holiday, escaping from the sun..

In grandma’s little cottage, he found a red violin..

They pushed him to the corners for his words were inapprehensible..

The more his fingers and the strings became inseparable..

A boy once running in circles for hours..

Found peace in his violin and the blooming of flowers..

They couldn’t understand him so he was segregated…

Not leaving him alone, now that his music was appreciated..

Closing all the doors behind, shutting out the universe..

All he wanted was the love he felt in singing a verse…

P.S. To all those young beautiful minds suffering from childhood Psychological disorders and the Autism spectrum.. Let’s try to stretch a hand towards them, before they lose faith in humanity and isolate themselves from a world full of opportunities.. Every child deserves to be loved and appreciated the way he is.

©Hira Chaudhry

Image courtesy: Wandalin Strzałecki – The Violinist

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