Wounds of a broken heart

 

The pain I go through everyday
Is now too heavy to gather up
I am ‘too’ a human
With the seat of affections
I too love to have a life of my own
But alas, that’s now an idle fancy only
Runs on in an idle vagary.

Your Overbearing pride
Your arrogance
Create but only cemeteries
Some of known
And some unknown
Leaving widows
Half widows
The orphans
The forgotten mourners
Behind them to mourn over
The shards of broken memories.

 

 

Sayar Ahmed Mir

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