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The Residual Noise

I don't like to be alone with my thoughts, rather drown in the white noise. Regrets longing love and hatred in a single thread, what a tangled mess, some happiness. Despair agony betrayal misery that's the way things used to be, even though time has gone full speed, wish I could set myself free. What of those who were there for a moment and then lost, what of those who were there for you.

Reliving a memory that sweet haunting melody, a cry for help, help me almighty, my heart only you can see, empty. I don't even know what these tears are for, of a memory of agony? Nothing left but that, a memory... how can I let it go, It's not that I'm not greatful for what I have now, it's all I ever wanted, beautiful....

It's the past that haunts me, it's that untold story which kills me, it's like a shroud of darkness that covers everything that I ever held dear, everything that mattered to me, becomes untrustworthy, was it real or everything a deception? Was …

High on Toxic

There is a pulsar shining next door
emptiness to the core you adore

Sit close to me on the roof take a selfie
projected life what someone else sees

Hallow words, hearts, hollow dreams
do what it takes to drown the screams

Hear my self breathing high on toxic
letting empty thoughts corrode logic

See them choose the highest pedestal
for their ego self praise is so essential

Why does one forget the dust in the end
seems distant but is just a split second

Why does the heart grow cold like ice
lost virtues with the roll of times dice

Echoes of words that vanish in the air
trying to find a way out of despair

Not easy going back to the very start
takes longer mending a shattered heart













میری سحر

جب  کچھ نہ تھا تب ملی امید سحر
خدا نے دی جیسے خود ہی نوید سحر

خوشی ملی جو برسوں  روٹھ گئی تھی
سکوں جیسے ملتا ہے دعائے وقت سحر

ان گنت غموں سے ٹوٹا پڑا تھا میں
بنی مرھم جیسی  وہ اک  نسیم  سحر

دعا بس یہی ہے میری رب رحیم سے
پر مسرت رہے تمہاری ہر گھڑی ہر سحر




Pakistan's Disease

Outrage. Condemn. Forget.

The twisted priorities of my fellow inmates in the ideological prison of which once was Pakistan. Overrun by blood thirsty overlords that have greed in their viens. What we are left with is blood, blood of children, innocent blood, someone's pride and joy, someone's answers to prayers for God knows how long, someone's only hope for a future, sleeps now, taken away by men, worthless, vile, hideous.

Why dont we stop these men, the answer is so simple & in plain sight. Fear. Pakistanis have accepted their fate, they have accepted that these men, just few of them, have their dominion over us, to play with our blood, we have accepted that none of us is capable of standing up to them, just a few, who attack from the shadows, hiding behind hands of patronage from within us, it is the disease that has tainted our blood from within. We let it in, we nurtured it, and now it kills us one by one.

Thus the outrage, a temporary outburst induced by the natu…