Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate. Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer’s lease hath all too short a date. Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimmed; And every fair from fair sometime declines, … Continue reading Shall I Compare Thee To A Summer’s Day? by William Shakespeare
In Pakistan, Shia genocide is the easiest and most possible diversion that is used to mitigate the disorder.
Tiger Tiger, burning bright,In the forests of the night;What immortal hand or eye,Could frame thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies.Burnt the fire of thine eyes?On what wings dare he aspire?What the hand, dare seize the fire? And what shoulder, and what art,Could twist the sinews of thy heart?And when thy heart began … Continue reading The Tiger by William Blake
by Emily Dickinson Because I could not stop for Death –He kindly stopped for me –The Carriage held but just Ourselves –And Immortality. We slowly drove – He knew no hasteAnd I had put awayMy labor and my leisure too,For His Civility – We passed the School, where Children stroveAt Recess – in the Ring … Continue reading Because I could not stop for Death
People around me believe I am a cynical person as nothing around me seems to be fit as per the great divine plan and according to the social structure. They say I have the tendency to scrape the rationality out of every single thing. I can’t disappoint them it isn’t my thing. Let’s talk about … Continue reading Rise of narcissists: The plague that killed poetry
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel bothAnd be one traveler, long I stoodAnd looked down one as far as I couldTo where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair,And having perhaps the better claim,Because it was grassy and wanted wear;Though as for … Continue reading The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost
Each star a rung, night comes down the spiral staircase of the evening. The breeze passes by so very close as if someone just happened to speak of love. In the courtyard, the trees are absorbed refugees embroidering maps of return on the sky. On the roof, the moon - lovingly, generously – is turning … Continue reading A Prison Evening