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If the Night Passes Safely.
by
Uzma Sadaf
If the night passes safely,
The morning would be there,
Heart is the mirror of purity,
The image looks beautiful,
And it dances in the eyes,
Flower is the beauty of the garden,
The lake is the moon of the land,,
Deep waters have their broad heart,
There is a sea in the eyes,
The dying stars and the moor,
The mad pursuits of a mad artists.
Life-like pictures,
The naked children on the open doors of the cottages,
The story of hunger written on wistful papers,
The dirty pictures on a dirty rivulet,
The muddy stories
The silent and dump tongue,
And on the other side of the rivulet,
Beautiful life, fragrant bodies,
The chairs and the table lying in the garden,
And the hot tea in decent cups,
The clean uniformed attendant,
The shining car,
And the carefree laughters,
Not knowing what is grief, pain,
Or the pangs of sleepless nights,
And across it, the incessent tears,
Eyes raining like the rainy season
With the tinge of blood in them,
The bewailing and crying children,
And the fusty dreams,
Lying under the heaps of deprivation,
Life far away from light.
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