The poem
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The thunderstorms of your memories: Quiver the ground of my heart virtually; It never set me free to live independently, From the cage, where I am living for centuries.
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I neither of can hide and escape: Myself from its flow ; Which is running under-mine! It all the time makes me feel very low.
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My soul gets writhe in the longing of the past days But my heart and brain don't want mercy pays: Somehow, I know I have nothing certainly, But the memories for spending my life lonely.
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Composed by Urooba Fatima.
Submitted by Urooba
