Poet: Adnan Maqsood
The struggle,
Fighting and dancing flowers,
Beautiful faces of dead souls,
Just remind the stone of hearts,
There speaks the act of struggles,
It appeals louder for everyone,
To every non-living ear or dumb,
Listen what it pleas to benefit,
It always asks for unity,
For the purpose to let clouds not,
Cry anymore for without a reason,
The reflection diverts and screams,
‘Tis the beauty of freeness,
You might not understand its pleasure,
Go and ask a caged bird,
How does it make it feel?
The answer would be shocking,
It is like the struggle, that speaks not,
But thunders as none can bear,
The roars of that non-living lions,
Still feared the hearts of evils,
That reasons the losing of beloveds,
And then the fear of losing themselves,
The mistakes now apologize,
But without permission of it itself,
That is all the nervousness of devils,
From the little souls of happiness,
That lived not like raining,
But lightened the heart of slaves,
And give birth a hope of getting,
What they actually desired for……!
Published in Daily Makran Times
Daily Makran Times 