Night has enveloped, to give me some relief,
Now invisible are walls of separation, and thy grief.

Where blood quenches the thirst,
Disloyalty is faith last and first,
Is the religion my beloved belongs to.

I beckoned, red and black robed lady with a wand.
Let me take her by the hand.
Heard of her about sorcery.
Her powers useless, and witch now about to succumb,
From just a gaze of eyes filled with Kohl of Leila.

My nights worthless, body breathless,
Every moment, feeling restless.
Be silent and hear, hear me, my cries,
Don’t forget the promise you swore,
I have lost my childhood over you.

Don’t know, how these years left me alone,
Sufferings, separation, theft me alone.
I never knew how pain excrutiates.
Sometimes, I enlivened you my dear,
Love is a blessing, and not a fear.

In a melancholy cloudy day, I mourn.
Glistening eyes, weeping sky, and heart torn.
I gaze from a window in Kashmir,
For a moment, condoling the tragedy, sighing.
In sombre time, lifeless, as if dying.

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Profile photo of Mirza Sharafat Hussain beigh
A young poet born on soil of martyrdom Kashmir. Though a romantic poet, filled with melancholy techniques is innovative in introducing new styles in poetry and dedicated towards making hearts sad.
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Kohl short poem

And now you sit dumbstruck, being a vivid orthodox lion, you speak to the world that you are too sweet, with your creative and imagining mind. But I tell you child, ‘dreaming’ and ‘imagining’ are not synonymous words. They stand