Symphonies of Lost Centuries

54/365

Published in: Revolution Flame

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I sit here alone and sing,
The symphonies of old days
The lyrics of past, I ring
and travel in the life’s abyss

The dulcimer in my old hand,
of mahogany wooded and multi wands
While the thick iron cords,
leave marks on my skin, so old

Wrinkles of aging years,
obscure to philosophers
obsolete to on-lookers
observe-able to photographers,

While each blotch holds a tale,
Each scar carry a painful wreck
And each dream turns a futile speck;
of the eternity of my fate,

The centuries, that I’ve passed,
The blooming youth, that I’ve last,
People stay near me to fantasize be,
but no one dare to travel inside me,

My eyes tell the same story,
The same story, from my heart dwell,
“Love, that it can make one great,
This life is too damn short for hate.”

Written By: Zunaira Afzal

Photography By: Hassan Raza

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20 thoughts on “Symphonies of Lost Centuries

  1. last part was awesome…
    yaad e mazi azaab he YA RAAB..
    cheen le muj se hafza mera..
    these words arose in my mind while reading the above part..
    a really nice poem 🙂

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