लकीरें azad nazm

Photo by Mark Ramsay

लकीरें रंग बदलती हैं कभी
वो राहें नहीं मिलेंगी रोज़ मुझे
ज़ुबान पे कुछ और दिल से कुछ न कहो
मैं राहों पे चलते ही तुम्हें ढूँढ लूँगा
आओ..हम इस पार मिलें

जहाँ पे दो लकीरों को बदलते देखा था हमने
उसी शहर से जुड़ जाती हैं मेरी नज़रों की लहरें सारी
वो ख़ामोश लहरें आज भी तुम्हारी आवाज़ को मिलकर गई होंगी
तुम रहना वहाँ अपने हाथों को थामे हुए
मैं बाँहें खोलकर थाम लूँगा तुम्हें वहीँ

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (1 votes, average: 3.00 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Profile photo of sowvik


Signup / Login to follow the poet.
ये आँखें ही हैं ये जो ख्वाब दिखाए जिनमे बैठे हैं छुपाये वो सारे राज़ जो किसी से न कहें जो किसी से न सुने कहें तो सिर्फ खुद से बोले ये राज़ सारे आँखों में ही रहें
Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

3 Comments on "लकीरें"

Notify of
Sort by:   newest | oldest
Anisha Angra

Good hai ji


Greetings my dear,
my name is Aisha I am 24 years old female single, I am searching for friendship and interested to establish a good relationship with you, I will like to know you more, Contact me via my email address (aishaabdelaziz1@hotmail.com‏ ) so that I will be able to attach more pictures and details to you,
Yours good friend Aisha.


Is This How You Love?

Is This How You Love? short poem

You have no problem leaving me behind. You can easily put me out of your mind. It’s like my presence puts you in a bind. I bet every time you see me you wish you were blind. You told me

The Prince, The King And The Master

The Prince, The King And The Master long poem

The shrine of Madonna stood tall, The high king’s rapier fell down, not anymore was he the young prince, for he was devoid of all feelings. The shrine of Madonna stood strong, The high king’s blood washed the ivory pedestal,

Who Was Me?

Who Was Me? short poem

A misbelief breaks into rags. Still I dream of some gods on black pages piecing together the words of light. The rains come in the cage of tears, voicelessly. Striated muscles of splintered faith go to cramps birthing the avatar


*depression short poem

There was thunder in the hut teeth clattered under the ground. Handcuffed you walk in inequality to qualify for hanging till dead. I may not tell myself what was happening to me. Moving in opposite direction the bird was able

November 22, 1963

November 22, 1963 short poem

My mother had just put me down for a nap And was folding clean diapers on her lap When Cronkite broke in on her show And announced for everyone to know That JFK had been shot in Dallas He didn’t