hasnath_mubeena

irfaanaishrath.sarahah.com

. this is where I've begun, this is where I belong to and this is what I will be at the end. "." -Hasnath

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  • hasnath_mubeena 6h

    A DAUGHTER'S PLEA:

    O sanctuary of human bliss, thou conquer the castle of love in the thousand splintered hearts. You'd never be a refugee of time and war.
    O love! Come back to your home to sleep on your mother's lap.
    Soothe the broken smiles and uproot the kindness beyond the sunshine. Get up from your b(ed)attle, uncover the blanket of rusty Devils
    Hope is the anthem of this universe.
    Yesterday's wounds are bleeding yet,
    Nor blood neither pain, rather pride of the motherland.
    Hugs and kisses are not enough,
    For you sacrificed the purest of souls.
    Dusty vision, destruction everywhere,
    Shedding leaves fall as seeds.
    Mesmerized by the music of bullets and bombs?
    Hence, the lullabies are sung in the houses of thine nation.
    The wails of the martyr's family, broke up the barriers of humanity as the postman recited the one last elegy.
    Walking steps are prickly, hurting and cruel
    Vulnerable to your bare bones.
    The chivalry was fed in womb,
    Though valour in your tomb.
    23 is the count of your heartbeats, 24th have lost the guts to fight against your sky.
    Our flag feels the honor lying upon you. Its covers the deep digged history of your martyrdom. Glimpses of bodies clustered in a fist, no enemies left to bother you, O bravery.
    The breath I take, is a charity of your last. The food I swallow, is from your starvation, O feast. The smile on my face, is gifted by your swollen eyes. The life I am blessed with, is a piece of diamond mined under your soul. Reverence is jealous of your children, as we've been praying for you. Duty is the priority, safety is necessity, selflessness the uniforms you wear.
    Nights' sleeplessness and days' tiredness, I've never seen in your courage. I understand now, that separation is the hammer and distance is like the opaque glass, both are harmful to each other.
    O father of billions of children, return home. May your arrival be mentioned in highest of the heavens. One this evening, the roses, lilies, trees, air and fire mourn for demise. O soldier, gold glazed sink is to be buried in the 2feet arms thine mother.
    The water in the rivers might mingle with the salty ocean, yet your tears would be sacred as you've bestowed on our gardens.
    Years and eras would narrate an ode thou, it'll echo in the unknown depths of the hearts. Forever is true as it beholds your epic battle tales in its entire time.
    You can't measure the thankfulness towards you, it is etched in my blood and nerves. You are not heroes in this world, rather the wide spread land we rely on. This whole mankind are civilized amid the cleavage of your stabbed life. As you rest, peace prevails in nooks of the country. I wish I had a magical eraser that I could've vanished the imaginary borders that sieges the brotherhood around your greasy face.
    -Daughter of a martyred solidire
    ©Hasnath Mubeena AsrafSoudha

    #realized fiction #elegy #soldiers #pod #writersnetwork @writersnetwork
    I hope its worth reading till the end.☺

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  • hasnath_mubeena 1w

    BLIND POETESS:

    She lives in the arms of silence because, she's stopped faking her to herself. The popping questions and emerging doubts are the lullabies it sings under her ears. There rest the envisaged eras, within her eyelids, the gleam escapes her lashes down the cheeks. Lies there the galaxies of stars beneath her skin yearning to enslave the air. The subtlety simplified in her lips, for it has a unique art, a smile. You can read her heart beats on her mirroring face. Her hair, kisses the zephyr and dances with the rustic rhythm. Her fingers embrace an enigmatic vision and feet floating in the space. Since the space is no more empty, rather an epitome of her soul. Her endless ebbs hit the Oracle of the Almighty. The fragrance of her dreams melts the barriers of hypocrisy, her heart beats mends the mellifluous song without lyrics. Her words are as clear as the sky penetrating the future. The world pokes her disability, she's not blind rather a seeker beyond imagination. Love is her language, most of them are ignorant of it. The vision of eyes are limited till the cosmos, but the vision of the heart is far from assumptions. She has no veil between her and heaven, but we do have, this materialistic world. She has been blessed with a special ability to solve the mystery of darkness.
    ©Hasnath Mubeena AsrafSoudha

    #blinds #pod #visions #writersnetwork @writersnetwork

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  • hasnath_mubeena 2w

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  • hasnath_mubeena 4w

    The mist has the keys to open the treasures
    concealed inside the buds.
    They whisper the secrets
    in the ears of the nomadic night.
    The soul sliding down the stride of dreams.
    The dawn bestows dews,
    the keys to unlock the chambers of the nature.
    One by one, petal by petal encloses the mystery of the universe. Certainly, the softness of the roses moans
    across the sky to indicate the happiness of a newly bloomed.
    Lucky is the sun, to witness the serene buds bloom,
    and we humans sleeping in gloom.
    The sun's mild shine peeps into the roots to foster the home.
    The roses giggle as the prickly thorns pokes the breeze.
    Roses are painted in versatile royal hues,
    some are baby pink, dark red, vermilion, red, dense pink.
    Maybe, the roses cannot survive without the thorny stem,
    as they are guardians of the treasures.
    A little girl passes by the garden,
    the naive smile on her lips kisses the treasure
    and sniffing nose tickles its heart.
    She plucks it tenderly and sings a song for the rivers of Paradise.
    She stitches it to her hair locks,
    an imprisoned rose's joy reaches her face.
    Until the Twilight, the withering rose
    started mourning for its own sunset.
    She snatched the rose out of her hair's prison,
    gently kissed it and drops on a book.
    The roses cry as they're the bride of a marriage.
    Their dyeing petals, weep as the smell of the heaven.
    Their fragrance fills the room as they pass away in arms of time.
    The next morning, yesterday's bride scattered amid
    the pages, wilted, dry and hopeless.
    Yet, she(rose) is smiling like she's read
    the whole series of life, feels that it is her new way life.
    An abiding magic lasts forever in her soul.
    Pleasure of life quenches its thirst.
    ©Hasnath Mubeena

    #rose #pod #poetry #writersnetwork @writersnetwork

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  • hasnath_mubeena 4w

    Its not necessary that every poetry should rhyme all the time. Some poetry has wings, which flys into hearts, deep down and fades with the blood of the souls. Rhymes don't fit in the backs of painful outburst. The poetry is never been incomplete without rhymes, rhymes are incomplete without a poetess.
    ©Hasnath Mubeena AsrafSoudha

  • hasnath_mubeena 5w

    On a day of fall, a nomadic breeze whispered in my ears the secrets of life. I fell in love with the evocative words it said, I merely let it pass by, but it took half of me, to the other pole of the heaven.
    Fly away to a place where you can find yourself,Not behind the people. Good things find its way back to you no matter what and where you are.
    Dandelions know that one day the air would steal it from the flowers' womb. Yet, there is a passion in getting lost into the known wind and bizarre vast world. Their destiny is unpredictable, as the weather. They befriend the clouds, play with them, stay in them, it is the dream of many. They paint on the canvas of the sky with colorful dreams. Dandelions are the carnation of hope, they see beyond the scope of survival. Once landed, they'll spread the abundance of hope to the dusky new moon. Not a single feather is wasted. Every feather carries a seed. Life is such beautiful, we can see happiness after the struggles, happiness is permanent if you choose to see the inner soul of everything.
    Girls are like the dandelions, we as a childhood flowers bloom in a place, unflur the feathers. The wind takes us to the place, we've never imagined. Uproot, grow, cherish and do the same in the next generation. Our Life is like the wind, sometimes invites the storms, continental drifts, change of seasons, nights and sunny days into our bizarre journey. At the end, there'll be a new sapling which inherit the legacy of courage, joy and tranquility. The wind and life are similar, unpredictable till the end, we explore soulful adventures and pass away in silence.
    We walk along the waving ocean. The fading footprints, reminds uncertainty of the sadness after its passed.
    Not all the stars glow in the darkness, some stars' shine may over power the brightness of the light. Days aren't tough, we become too busy in worrying about the unpredictable future.
    Good things stays, right things would rush to us, the moment is not yet arrived. Slight salty stress relieves, drowsy depression decrease. We're not weeds rather the symbol of valour. We can uproot firmly anywhere.
    ©Hasnath Mubeena

    #pod #dandelions #jazmin #writersnetwork @writersnetwork

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  • hasnath_mubeena 7w

    Any suggestions? I mean I'm running out ideas to write.
    #temporary #writersnetwork @writersnetwork

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  • hasnath_mubeena 8w

    There is an irreparable typo in the 4th line�� its *vagabond
    #some #pod #writersnetwork @writersnetwork

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  • hasnath_mubeena 9w

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  • hasnath_mubeena 9w

    I am back here for full-time. Would read all those posts I missed since long.
    #fantasy #pod #wish #writersnetwork @writersnetwork

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