So I sat on this couch, with some coffee, holding a pen and paper ...
By James Joyce
My love is in a light attire
Among the apple trees,
Where the gay winds do most desire
To run in companies.
There, where the gay winds stay to woo
The young leaves as they pass,
My love goes slowly, bending to
Her shadow on the grass.
And where the sky’s a pale blue cup
Over the laughing land,
My love goes lightly, holding up
Her dress with dainty hand.
By Maryam Jameel
Rose high in the sky the golden sun,
With its breathing, beckoning rays.
Defeating yet again the Nemesis ‘Night’
Tearing its haunting cloak away.
Dawn of new breath, new hope awaits,
Night long wait for a morn does pay.
From remorse to redemption do I move fast,
Regret and repulsion of the night do decay.
Now tracing and retracing each clumsy cloud,
I sit in the window and wonder aloud,
“Had I not been acquainted with the night,
Could I learn to treasure my day?”
By Mashaal Farid
So I sat on this couch, with some coffee, holding a pen and paper
To write a blooming ballad
On colourful evenings
Of chirping birds
Of the blossoms of buds
But my vision blurred and all it allowed me to see was
The crippling leaves
The hushing trees.
And...
My instinct scream
The autumn still isn’t drained out
It has set its roots deep and built its kingdom of woe
And so can you,
Not able to have your very own lyrics upon spring.
By Nazish Sabir
Beyond the acceptance of reality,
Adhered by the rebellious mindset,
No introspection or critic helps flourish souls,
As they discover peace in the wild lands;
Lands of never ending needs.
Compiled by SK
