A girl so has left
the door that she kept.
The eyes that would meet
are lost in the meat.
The sweetness adoring
no more is for scrolling.
The breath that she hissed
is all that is missed
The lips we would feel
is no more the real.
The nights that we woke
and letters that we wrote.
The love that we felt
and life that we knelt.
Those dreams that we saw
the creams were so raw.
The times that have bent
and gone that we spent.
For the autumn is back
and the hearts are black.
So i don’t have a need
for a love that is freed.
Khan Elie Gohar Durrani







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