Hope is the thing with feathers .... That perches in the soul ...
Poems forever
By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I’ve heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
By Afaq Muhammad
I’ve heard it in the loudest crowd
And felt it on the windiest ways
Inside your head it always shouts
A hymn of jocund joys and gays
It’s present without you knowing at all
In everyone’s hearts and in the feeling and thoughts
It's present to hold you while you fall
Instead of that some joys it brought
It's brighter than the Sun itself
But always stays in darker places
For it is there to help you in depths
And save you from the darkness that gazes
By Mahnoor Raza
We all are obsessed,
In one way or another,
With beautiful faces,
Or captivating nature,
That entangles us,
Like an ant stuck in a spider’s web,
Where there is no escape,
Whirling and whirling,
Yet no loopholes,
Sometimes of beautiful memories,
Pictured in our minds,
That hypnotize us,
Bringing sweetness to life,
Though for a fragment,
A blessing or curse?
That no one knows,
Yet it beholds every entity,
In its trap.
By Aamna Saleem Khan
Spring has returned with blooming parade,
I plea this zenith to never fade,
Bedevilled once by fits of blues,
But look now I cradle the newborn hues,
Broken pieces of the shattered glass,
No longer inflict wounds on my scars,
I have draped a brand new skin,
For the ecstatic flame to erupt from within,
Not afraid is the timid fawn,
It has come a long way for this breaking dawn,
This gives hope even to the hopeless,
The stars can bring out miracles from abyss.
