Iman Sadikeen Poems
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The Weaver Of Dreams
A weaver of vivid dreams she be,
Spinning them with the yarn of despair,
Knots them she does with blind hopes,
Conjuring a life of warmth and care.
Could she not, this beautiful pattern adorn?
Wishes thus the maiden's sighing heart!
Caged by the cherished moments of once,
Haunted by a presence so strong I felt.
Here I am standing alone
alone, Where you left me, abandoned and lone
You flew away on your own
Not even a farewell spared on this yearning soul
I remain here, a wingless bird
Dreaming of spreading my wings with you and you alone!