
BEAUTY FROM ASHES ~BY SARARANI GHUMARE
He’s not done yet, He’s writing beauty into your breath,
He’s not done yet, He’s writing beauty into your breath,
Thirty years gone, memories stay
Faces familiar, yet changed with time’s sway
Sabr rakh ek din bahaar ayegi
Sath hon jab mera saqi wo shab hazaar ayegi
She sat on the bench, just second from first,
A girl full of dreams, with a curious thirst.
I’m an orange,
But if I can’t juice — will you throw me out?
Fly, fly,
Blackbird.
I don’t know what you’ve seen nor heard,
But I know it hurt.
Just another day waking up alone—
No one blowing up my brand new phone
He clings to his rusty wheelchair,
As he clings to his dirty brushes.
A rose will bloom,
A child is born,
While they leave their mother’s womb.