Poetry

Zindage Me Bhi Sakoon Dhondty Ho Deewano , Zindage Kiya Hai Jo Chalti Hui Talwaar Na Ho...!!! ، زندگی میں بھی سکوں ڈھونڈتے ہو دیوانو !!!... زندگی کیا ہے جو چلتی ہوئی تلوار نہ ہو

Life Is Fine I went down to the river, I set down on the bank. I tried to think but couldn’t, So I jumped in and sank. I came up once and hollered! I came up twice and cried! If that water hadn’t a-been so cold I might’ve sunk and died. But it was Cold in that water! It was cold!

Life  Story Poem Life , they told her, was a game one only won by the wise, and so she thought it was a shame, that no one made it out alive. Young she was and thus, believed, a difference someday she would make, every chance, she knew she’d seize, and never would she make mistakes. She thought she could win in fact, she was sure, because she was just a kid whose only weapon was hope. Years later, she realized how naive she really was,  herself, she criticized, and hence, the game she lost.

Best Collection of Urdu Poetry , Its About Love And Life With Emotional Pictures .. Usy Apnay Dard Ki Fikar Thi Woh Jo Mera Waqif-e-Hal Tha Wo Jo Uski Subha-e-Arooj Thi Wohi Mera Waqt-e-Zawal Tha, Mera Dard woh Kesay janta Meri Baat Woh Kesay Maanta, Woh To khud Fana Ke Safar Me Tha Usay Rokna Bhi Mahal Tha...!!! Itnay To Buray Na Thy Hum Jitny Ilzam Lagaye Logon Ne, Kuch Us Ne Hamain Barbad Kia Kuch Apnon Ny Badnam Kiya...!!! Kabar ki Mitti utha ke Le gaya Koi Isi Bahane Humein choo kar Chala gaya Koi,

Best Poems Collection   About Life .. The Tree of Life Coiled spring, analogous tension & pressure, prehistoric neighborhood, cauldron of nuclear power: we were drinking gin & tonics from the planet’s jaw when the news came. Roses are red, violets are blue jeans; cupcakes are cop-food, death is a dinosaur (extinct, et cetera) whispering the future is an old friend shouting “don’t be afraid.” Dear degeneracy, dearer street map of Texas, dearest thrust-to-rocket ratio from which God puts cock to abyss: Modernity, my fucker, is the natural language of structure; our goodwill gets complicated when we break Hell in unsimple shapes. Fourth of July, fifth of July, sixth of stellar lighthouses surrounding space, seventh: one is always coming upon some American city whispering I am some American city & I am the desire to be within it when the sun fries. We dance under the asterisks, dip our toes in the ink. The odds the stars wi...