Poetry

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Come out tonight Get out of sight forge all the menace escape alive   I was talking about the time when people lived on roadside shacks when politics was a distant dream and we all were young   There was a time when the sky was clear and we could breathe god’s fresh air no chains or boundaries seemed to bind us to our mortal fear   We have been chased through all this day by the hounds of authority running out and running in through the maze of this wicked dream   We can. . . . .. .

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By Talha Bin Ehtasham Today is the third day since you left. Overnight; on that same express train, Like countless times before. This time though feels the worst. I know you missed home and that you had plans, But seriously, two months! Even you know that you’ll end up bored by then. Come to think of it, I didn’t give you much reason to stay either. Maybe that’s why I turn now to this poem Or maybe I’m just an idiot.   Today I heard your voice over the telephone. Everything was alright you said, But you sounded worn to

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In the bleeding north where the darkness of old blood merged on winter stones waiting for new wars, a man rose to power. Uncut, unbruised, with his sword still in his scabbard, with a shadow that clung to him noon and night, a man whose words were spoken softly, and soldiers leaned close to hear them fearing that the word they missed might be their death. They tried to kill him at first, scheming across the table at the feast he threw for them, drinking deep of the poisoned wine as Hrothgar smiled, watched them writhe ad die, until even

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