W.A Neena Taimoori
Flowers and pain deeply are they rooted,
Embracing each other they originate.
One who presents flowers-
maybe one that stabs at the lowest!
The fragrance of flowers diffused in the air,
Till the hand hurts we bear.
Those bonds which are not of any cause,
Hence we do not desire to pause.
Pain and pain merely pain,
Nothing is present down the lane.
Do not chase those heart-throbbing dreams.
Once you leap to catch it, down the pit ye wither,
Till the final juncture ye flicker.
Writer’s Profile
Neena is a poetess and a writer of English & Urdu language. She has compiled anthologies namely “Writers words are their Blood Sweat”, “Gemstones”, “Serendipity,” “Meliora,” “Sper” and “Melancholic Phases.”
