Silent Killers
Silent Killers She sighs As starless skies Dull, bleak and faded like soot with humid air Close in on her Blinding fog Which Smells of burnt autumn leaves… Chokes Songs of spring Haunt like Memories of yore Each time…
Maryam H. Viqar
A seeker, dreamer, scribbler, reader, writing poetry as musings of a restless mind....and yes 'the sight of the stars makes me dream' too....
If You Wished
Gleams of a forgotten wish bring light
Some reminiscent dull memories appear
Though faded with time's constant jilt
But yet Unmarred and indestructible
The Void
Nothing is more depressing than the feeling of emptiness. Letting the void consume you whole, is a missed shot, entirely.
The Reaper
Of all the blooms I see
All I can do is dream and write
about you in my poetry
EVERYTHING
We often fall short of appreciating the little thing. We need to learn how to be grateful to the things that truly matter. We have to look back and be grateful for everything.
Gratitude
With eyes closed and with a smile on your face
Abandon all your fears let thoughts gain pace
Whilst you sit underneath a shadeless tree
And sing summer's forgotten poetry
Don’t Look Back
Don’t Look Back Do you Look behind When you Hear an eerie voice On the wings of icy air Calling your name? The muffled whispers From your nightmares When begin to haunt Your day’s peace Do you stop And…
Song Of The Autumn Nymphs
In the silence
Of the dead woods
Where the lonely trees
All stood
The autumn nymphs
Dance
To the haunting tunes
of memory's trance
Of Seashells and Dewdrops
My yesterdays
Transforming before
My eyes into
Sparkling dewdrops
Reflecting the Universe,
Seashells
And my tomorrow.
Be Unstoppable, Dream On…
As you rise and fall
Nonchalantly
To appear and disappear
In the soothing waters
Let no one stop you
From believing
In six impossible things
March Song
As Time
Achingly remembers
That years ago in March
Someone sang to me
My first lullaby...
Transformations
In the middle of all chaos, humdrum and disparity
Yet slowly learning
The secret art
Of turning myself
into who I have always wanted to be.
The Recruiter
She began to whisper
About dreams turning dark
And uncanny happenings
The Last Antidote
For those dreams
Were palpable
Touching the drinker of the concoction
With all might.
The Rising
They dance
Enraptured, singing praise,
disciples and their master all,
Down
With their knees on the ground,