O my LORD! make me great.
Help me out of this distress,
Tired of all these sufferings,
I want to bear them no more.
...
Born I was all alone, and so I will die
Now I've done away with my dispel,
Never knew what was the motive to cry,
My being here today barely just to ply.
...
Get up, step aside;
And be ready for the ride.
Come along with me and see,
The fatal sight of the futile stride.
...
A student of the twelfth standard. Poetry is my passion. Love to read and write poems. NOTHING ELSE WHATSOEVER.For further queries contact me on theashraf@live.com.)
Just Mere Two Lines!
Barely will you meet a complete world of yours to ply;
Somewhere you'll be missing the land and somewhere the sky!
Have you withdrawn some poems?