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Saturday, April 30, 2011

Her Name

He called her name from aching mouth,
Calling her dreams as if they slept from the spine.
His moment of motion began from the bed
Towards the innocent tower of strength.
Lifting the body had never been attempted
For the human body required a sense of loss.
She was dead for generations, alive for the time,
The crystal cover of her diary shined with disbelief.
Wondered over, captained and bought,
The books of life are the whole meaning of time and dreams.
It was her emptiness and his emptiness
This time.
Naveed Akram
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