THE AGE OF MIRACLES

 

All the things has a cause to happen. 

The sun, the morning, the stars, the night, 

The golden sun to morning, the stars to night. 

 Merely all played the age of miracles. 

The creeping school boy, with utmost unwillingness. 

The solider with oath at lips, adhere solidarity. 

Then the beggars to congested streets, struggle to live. 

They all played the age of miracles. 

The birds return to their nests, with hope.

Some whining acts of patients, bearing the pain. 

Enormous joy of prisoners, to be released

And these just played the ages of miracles. 

NIGHTS IN SOLITUDE. 

Read more poems... 

https://wanirohitqadir.blogspot.com/

Follow on instagram

https://instagram.com/blogger_poet

Follow on blogger. 

https://adilghulambhat.blogspot.com

Follow on Facebook. 

https://facebook.com/Poetrywriteraadilgulambhat

Follow on Twitter. 

https://twitter.com/poetryblog.

THE ARRIVAL OF STRANGER

Like she came to condolence for my sickness. 

In so called spooky shadows, while in dark nights. 

Then a stranger, trudged the dark rooms, 

To patch the squeezed shroud, all and all. 

She was magical even with her talks. 

Probably a song, that is still echoing in ears. 

The power and deep care in her inwardness. 

Like a caring mom to new born baby. 

I was lying on torn bed, full of bushes. 

And i thought, i knew so well

In all of her shrieking, i listen to stranger. 

We got so together, breathe so together. 

NIGHTS OF SOLITUDE>>>>

Follow on instagram

https://instagram.com/blogger_poet

Follow on blogger.

https://adilghulambhat.blogspot.com

Follow on Facebook.

https://facebook.com/Poetrywriteraadilgulambhat

Follow on Twitter.

https://twitter.com/poetryblog.

DOLENT ; THE WINDOW OF HOSPITAL

 

In the lap of green clothed bed, 

Some screams, some waits to die. 

Everyone clings to their loved ones, 

With their strange oaths. 

Some find their place to sleep, 

Sans clothes, sans pillows. 

Some wait at doors with tied hands, 

And seeking God's mercies. 

Tens and hundreds of pale hands, 

Still are waving, hoping to live. 

without footwares, nobody even cares, 

Predisposing in blood banks with fears. 

Some with pain, some with fear,

Everyone is like croaking soul. 

The rooms with deep and secret  disquiet, 

Rule someone to birth, someone to death. 

Follow on instagram

https://instagram.com/blogger_poet

Follow on blogger. 

https://adilghulambhat.blogspot.com

Follow on Facebook. 

https://facebook.com/Poetrywriteraadilgulambhat

Follow on Twitter. 

https://twitter.com/poetryblog.

TO THE ROAD OF REJOICE

 

To cease my Rejoice, to flare the mingled sun, 

To catch the orange rays, to spread the wings, 

To unlock the padlock, to heal the inner wounds, 

I played many parts, to seek the lesson. 

Thou have made me strange, alone and Inconsequence.

 I know, if i had a strange smell of my own heart, 

To grant me the dragon well, will quench my Thirst.

And thy smell lasts utill i lost my all sense

While painting the sickening walls, bounded to ground, 

In my mind and, i thought a slick  painted wall, 

Like a dream of scared child in terrible night

Then a blurred vision, pale body, red eyes unsound.

Watch more poetry on YouTube.... 

https://youtu.be/ZHiM33VLoOo

WIND OF CAGE

I'm  at my  wits end, 

And still had a lump in my throat.

I'm going to make an end. 

So, Found a kinderd spirit, hoping to float. 

Then a moment, even i lost purpose, 

As my love freckle with age, nothin adore. 

I lift my grief, what could be the purpose, 

Fearlessly, i will hold on sight of shore. 

In a fix, trying the last burst, 

By the river, to find my sailing boat. 

And on walls I've claimed with durst, 

I'm fed up, not the faint of heart. 

Watch Also on YouTube

https://youtu.be/QYfztDjjU6E

GROWLING WALLS

Oh! I am still, 

Beholding the winter chill. 

Across the panneled walls, 

Polished chairs and golden grill. 

As of you, 

Feeling the breeze and dew. 

A silent hope, silent tear, 

Tired as pale rider, in brew. 

Then a verity, 

Covert in reality of austerity, 

No dignity in rows of adversity.

So, unaware of belief and reality. 

Vist to YouTube  for more, press the link below ⬇⬇⬇⬇

https://youtube.com/channel/UCsqmsI8gOE4gRiiHpxvnBvg

GALLEY-SLAVE

I'm wingless bird, not to yearn to fly. 

Pondering over miseries, long enough a fact. 

Weeping blood streams left me so drained.

I'm flowing river, ain't finding end of line. 

Oh, what have you done, you wretch, 

And in deep darkness i rove. 

Nothin in line, sans hope, sans taste. 

No man apprise, all hopes are waste. 

To a straight road, got nothin for my pain. 

Enough to move on, enough to feel again. 

Nothing but__ didn't squeeze enough to feel, 

Enough to heal, enough to love, live again. 

Watch also on YouTube. 

https://youtube.com/channel/UCsqmsI8gOE4gRiiHpxvnBvg