Healing Poem by Quaid-Uz- Zaman

Healing



Even promising clouds
driven by a strong wind
and far away from the high mountains
know not the course of theirs journey;
the sea appearing calm and gentle pay heed
to no whims.
It roars to itself
with a punctured thought.
Then prediction
an unworthy and always been suspended;
time speaks thereupon
in order of merit.

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