Literature & Arts
-
Poem Down an English lane, where spring exhales,I roamed, entranced, by flowering trails.Petals swirled in sunlight’s tender beam,A chorus of hues, a woven dream. Cherry’s soft pink, magnolia’s snow,Lilac’s faint blush where breezes flow.Each shade a murmur to heart and thought,A cooling breath, with kindness wrought. Rose’s bold crimson sparked quiet flame,Jasmine’s pale star soothed
-
This poverty, this endless despair, A life so broken, beyond repair. What’s left to hold in this fleeting world, Where dreams are crushed, and hopes unfurled? To live each day as if to die, To die each day with a weary sigh. Bound by chains of grief and strife, What meaning lies in this fragile
-
If we must die one day, then why, This sorrow, this toil beneath the sky? Why the struggle of autumn leaves, When in the end, they must fall with the breeze? Why chase the sun, forever ablaze, When peace can be found in shadowed days? Why battle the waves with endless might, When songs linger
Maq Masi Blog 