Sumaya Aijaz

A book there, on that shelf,
evoked questions to ask myself.
Empty cover, not adorned with elf -
still, it was taken from that shelf.
...

If I can touch a soul
lost within the rain,
then all my days upon this earth
Shall not be in vain.
...

Why are you roaming?
At the dusk, at the dawn,
Amidst this rain, amidst thin haze,
While water keeps sweeping
...

Yes, I want to write
But then,
They will call poets author's of misery.
With a deep breath, I swallow
...

It struck me when he wrote,
I cried for shoes beneath my feet,
Until I saw a man with none.
...

Not always does warmth mean heat,
Sometimes it is love so deep and sweet.
Like water kept in an earthen pot,
Or flowers blooming when the world is not.
...

Tried to be hard,
but couldn't.
Tried to act fast,
but couldn't.
...

Deafness amidst sound,
Numbness amidst words,
Blindness behind curtains
drawn across the eyes-
...

They ask me
what is harder-
to contain or to flow,
to stay or to go,
...

Let me wander through the streets,
Let mud soak in my tiny feet.

Let me laugh too loud,
...

On a stage, I was placed.
I stood there, only gazing,
my eyes wandering through the scene;
everything felt strangely serene.
...

This silence.
These heavy eyes.
This throbbing heart.
These numb fingers.
...

Eyes opened into the heart of night,
Darkness gathered without a light.
A silent cry rose with all its might,
As though life itself were held too tight.
...

He knows how to trick-
To destroy walls brick by brick.
Pain begins with just a prick,
Then spreads like fire quick.
...

Letting it all out-

From forgotten boxes,
from dust laden shelves,
...

Somethings rest there
Everything so close and near
Lies the fire and fear,
Every hook, nook and tear.
...

Oh, I want the words to breathe-
When at the gate lies a rose wreath
When silence swells and nothing speaks
When nothing seems, even if it seeks
...

At the banks of a quiet lake,
clenched fists hold their silence.
Tranquility, a beautiful queen,
covers the fury resting beneath.
...

Before calling someone 'mine'-
know they can turn to wine.
Before writing a single line,
know it may become your sign.
...

Some people travel on same train as we,
station meant to be one, but a twist I see.
It was meant to be same yet somehow,
Don't know when the script flipped or how.
...