THE REVOLUTIONARY CALLS ~BY MOHAMMAD SAFIQUL ISLAM
I had to take a bullet for giving water
The road is covered in blood.
The joy of the tyrannical queen increases
All the fans lick the booted flood.
I had to take a bullet for giving water
The road is covered in blood.
The joy of the tyrannical queen increases
All the fans lick the booted flood.
I have seen her with my own mortal eyes,
Walking around her own castle of dread, when will she realize?
With a bailey made out of her impenetrable fright, with knights standing alert all day and all night, how could she realize?
A vase in the middle of a dynamic room is bound to shatter, but if it is in one way, rather than another, would that, in the end, matter?
Would the shattered vase continue to ponder its fate even after someone has left it feeling uncared for and scattered?
The comfort of a breeze
chilling on a cold noon,
stripes of sunshine ,
cutting through the curtains.
The trees embrace solitude ,
before the leaves and flowers ,
bloom to life.
The squirrels munching nuts ,
carved under a big mahogany.
The streets are imprinted ,
by the morning dew drops.
She got those gorgeous brown eyes,
So deep that one couldn’t return, even if they tried,
Perhaps it’s due to the precious tears she cries.
Left with none to wipe her eyes.
In a quiet corner of the world,
A boy with dreams, like wings unfurled,
His heart was light, his spirit bright,
Till words cast shadows on his night.
देशको माया, साँचो प्रेमको संगम,
सपना र संघर्ष, एकै लहरमा बाँच्न।
माटोको गन्ध, हावा र पानीको साथ,
धरतीको ममता, हृदयमा समेट्न चाहन्छु।
In life’s grand game, I’m born to play,
A humble pawn with dreams astray.
Others rise—queen, knight, bishop bold,
While I, a pawn, my fate unfold.
It’s a game of let’s pretend,
Played behind the little screen.
Statuses, selfies, the texts we send,
I’m sure you know what I mean
I’m just breathing in oxygen,
Why’s it got to be so hard?
All this air, trapped in my chest,
Like a noose tightening in the dark.