From HIBA [Shopian] To Inhabitants Of The Ephemeral World

Syed Mustafa Ahmad
Haji Bagh, Budgam
samiabbk123@gmail.com

How can I see my mother?

She has the only concern to bother

I want to look at my father;

But lifelessness is the quality of weather

I wanted to be a physcist;

looking at the lens through mist

I didn’t like to hold the wrist;

Nor I wanted to cure the cyst

I am strange in this paradise;

There is no need for he Sun to rise

Here, griefs come inreal disguise;

And we are not so wise

My life has been set on fire;

Now, I myself is a live-wire

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