Traffic lights bleed onto rain-stained roads
A blurry yet colourful noisy solitude
Battered boats with dirty-cherry windows
Illuminate the waves with a golden-orange hue
Heavy lamps that dangle at the starboard deck
Slash througy swells much like crushed felt tip pens.
Where the world shall wait behind my back
Whilst I empty my thoughts from this darkened end.
For I still can’t grapple how to handle
This entire adulthood jingle
Of words like raindrops pelting on my mantle
Lips in motion, mind befuddled.
Because words can fail me and I can’t hear my voice
I just hope something will one day fill the void
tazmin
ġham tumhārā thā zindagī goyā tum ko khoyā use nahīñ khoyā fart-e-girya se jī na halkā ho bas yahī soch kar nahīñ royā ashk to ashk haiñ sharāb se bhī maiñ ne ye dāġh-e-dil nahīñ dhoyā maiñ vo kisht-e-nashāt kyoñ kāTūñ jis ko maiñ ne kabhī nahīñ boyā aabla aabla thī jaañ phir bhī bār-e-hastī
