What happens to their dreams when people die?
Do they get burried too?
Or like seeds; they grow?
What happens to the tears people cry?
Do they dry like auntumn leaves?
Or like rivers and streams they always flow?
What happens to the stars in people’s eyes?
Do they ever return with the night?
Or under the sunlight they always hide?
I wonder, I wonder what happens to the dreams when people die!
Author: Sidra Sohail
Frozen
And one kiss of passion and love could melt all the frost off her lips.
The Heavy Pen
The ink has been wandering in my heart pushing itself to come out through the pen and fall on the empty paper; fall on the paper and say what it had explored inside. The ink is dark, like a night without the moon;
Or the stars.
And It smells like smoke.
Or maybe ashes.
Yes, ashes.
And ashes don’t write. They only bleed.
Drunken City Dancing
When the lights start dancing and the city smells like wine, know that the air around me is missing you.
Fantacies
Live in the ruins of palaces within my dreams.