Sunday, April 1, 2018




No, this world is not all shiny and bright,
No, you don’t have to kill parts of you to be a part of this shallow pride,
Live, love, laugh and break,
And when you break, let this world stand witness to your collapse with a smile on your face,
Oh! You beautiful soul, who told you, you have to stand tall amidst things that suffocate your soul,
Hold on, let go, scream, withhold, Do as you please,
Bring on destruction, if that is what brings you back to thee,
Then after all the battles done, collect your scattered stardust and re-arrange your dazzling fate,
You, yes you, you are a force of nature, a masterpiece that was created with the strength of this whole universe,
You were made from the sun, the moon, the galaxies and all the abundant mysteries that is seeped within this sky deep,
You are no ordinary being, so don’t just settle down to please,
Step up, Speak and dare all those who once dared to make your voice bleak,
Let them know you are the fire residing quietly within the ashes,
And the day you explode, you will bring down this whole world beneath your feet, splitting like dreaded leaves.
Maryam Abbasi


It’s been a while since I last felt the touch of those hands,
The smoothness of love and silhouette of an angel from Paris,
A Love spelled backwards that claimed to be held in pain,
Lights squander and calmness of these streets reminds me of that love-affair,
The one, where poetry was done between the lips and an eternity was lived between those breaths,
Glowing. Delicate. Moments that still live by.
But somewhere along, all this while, these memories evolved with corners edged,
Cutting through fingers that now trace that love between pages of rust,
But then they say, that’s how fairytales cannibalizes,
Leaving behind taste that cuts through veins, yet you say, love is what held me when I was swept away,
Clock ticks away, time flies but the memories are still tucked inside,
Moments pass by in search of a touch that will once again smell like the sweet taste of the vineyards of Paris,
But, I think that stupid heart of mine forgot, that when we talk about Paris, it’s all about fallen heroes and dead heartbreaks.
Maryam Abbasi.


Don’t you know that there is a breed that wakes up at 3:15,
When the sky in all its darkness lives an epoch, laundering between the pleas of those unheard prayers,
When the wind summons the angels to sing it a love song,
But darling, don’t you know that there is a breed that wakes up at 3:15.

Amidst the silence of those barren lands and the hours a mother lays her hand on the head of her sleeping infant,
Amidst all such stillness, do you know life wakes up to belief,
When the streets are deserted and the stars dance with all their might, a mix of human and divine rise,
But darling, don’t you know that there is a breed that wakes up at 3:15.

Soul bright and words sealed tight, they go through the day quiet, but are brought back to life at night,
Yes, they wear the cloak of an average man but within them lives a human,
A heart and dream that is too afraid to show itself in skin,
But darling, don’t you know that there is a breed that wakes up at 3:15.

When the world crashes down with its wings, these souls come out with their queens and kings,
When money stops running the show, they let art and literature ballet its way through their Broadway,
These souls colored in different skin and glow, pave way for feelings to exist,
But darling, don’t you know that there is a breed that wakes up at 3:15.

And in hope for finding a place to co-exist, they love to rise when the world sleeps,
Beneath a thousand hopes, they wake up to find they have a quarter where they can just be,
No questions served, no answers deserved, just a will to live and love,
But darling, don’t you know that there is a breed that wakes up at 3:15.


MISS MARYAM ABBASI is a 25 year old post graduate in English literature. Besides being an ardent reader, she picked up a flare for writing pretty early in her career. Being someone who is an introvert by nature, Miss Abbasi found words to be her companion. It was between words she found her solace. The journey began when she started publishing her articles in the leading newspapers at a pretty early age and after which she started sharing her writings on social media platforms as well, where she now enjoys immense popularity. It is her love for words and the thirst to express herself in words that she is exploring this journey with uttermost passion and eagerness.

1 comment :

  1. Your poem affected life?! Yes, you can share your lovely poem and its great "after story" with the world... Submit now on