by Huma Zuellah Ahmed … Unchain meSaid my heart to meUnconditional I amSo let me beLocking me upPutting shackles on meThrowing the keys in the oceanDoesn’t make me be meHow can you, put barbed wires aroundAnd expect me, to be freeHow can you, encage me in yourselfAnd expect me to seeHow can you, contain me […]

Rain. Whatever it is. It’s just a myth. For we. The Karachiates. Have never seen it. Rained. The way. They say it does. In the west. Yes, sometimes. Some rare times. We do see. Little drops. Washing over the dust. The dust. That layered our trees. Our homes. And. Our hearts. Tanzeela k

I am a queen, that of beauty manifestIn a land, that stretches far, is full of zestNo death exists in any partNo sorrow can live in any heartThere is green, as far as the eye can lookThere is blue too, like this glazed brookeThe skies are illuminated with His lightSo the dwellers always do that

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The insecurities,keep me secure,in the position I’ve attained,in my social circles. They are open,unshielded,unprotected, but they’re enclosed,still unshielded.They never can bewhen they mask themselves,on one’s apparrel. Known to few,who distinguish the mask from the true identity. My social circles are small,sufficient to provide coverage,to the insecurities mutating. I’ ve barely got friends,but I’ve got the

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i wish to livein a yellow houseon an oak treeold and tallproud and wise farfrom the clutterin my mind arethere such homesmay one be mine may i findsolace and peacemidst these loudscreams and shrieksi wish to finda home that’s mine a yellow tree house Taymia