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Poet
Every day cloud burst over my head
Every day I die,
every day I dance In a dark room
of sorrow and happiness
Into the light, I shy//
Why to weep and why to cry
Under the veiled canopy of false hood
Still, at some precious moment
I have a movement
Into the deep dense wood//
With a naked thought of a child
A pawn like pen,
A chess board like a paper
Desirous Victory winning bard
Under thy Cord, O my Lord////
poem
by
Aftab Alam Khursheed
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