Assat Ahmed
Stories (7/0)
The song of love; life and death
For quite some time I had been having this feeling as if something is beating deep down in my heart, creating a symphony with the rhythm of my vibrating valves and I have been twirling on the tune of my tapping feet. It's my soul ignited and their had been arousal of the thumping roars. My eyes got the sight and I have lost my eyes. The rustling leaves and the swirling wind with him taking his steps... approaching nearer and nearer. Shifting of the sight to the corners of my eyes. The shoes' sight and my frozen eyes. The moment strolled and the moment stopped. The twirl steadied and the swirl silenced. Just an eye snap and the ice cracked. Stiffled through the core of dying rose. Red blood poured, dripped, blended with brown rusting leaves.... It darkened!
By Assat Ahmed3 months ago in Poets
Society's satirical swamp
Glazing glory, luxurious riches and Amber mold A town with the tales of treasure and gold Where cars fume and around they honk And ladies in heels chat and mock The building that sprung to sky heights And plates and piano that strum all night A chandelier that dazzle and brighten their cheeks. Fetes and feasts and dancing feets And around strolls a miser in a tattered attire. Lousy and stinky, with a groaning desire Wines and eatery and commodious reside Disheveled, I linger the roadside Splendor supremo and slave's discord He stood there questioning the exalted Lord Yet under his bushy face and muddy hue A wondrous sculpture could be seen through With his hunger pangs and voracious tramp He stages the society's satirical swamp.
By Assat Ahmed3 months ago in Poets
Burnt in The journey long
Flying fumes and dancing flames that burns the man's mantle to a molten mound and moulds into varied shape Hardened then broken and bursted to an array of patterned portraits with sprinked mesh work of Laughs and teardrops and grizzling states He runs across to emboss and immerse in paints To thread and weave and stain the lanes And when in the surging streams he lost his stay Sparkles of the night kindled his way He lived and feathered and relished his time Till his sights got condensed by a cloudy slime
By Assat Ahmed3 months ago in Poets
Cold mid nights of winter
The cold midnights of the freezing winter when the glacial gusts bellows around to ice the cores of flesh and bones. Amidst the blank scene is the whispering breeze and falling flakes of snow. The bleak mid nights with a slit of shine from the distant skies. Twanging of the leaves on the brisk branches of erect trees. The lands laminated by stratified sheets of snow fudging the way through.Bedside the fire and a smoking chimney squats an old lady into a sofa, reading the words from a book's frame.Shivering windows pleading refuge from the racking cold.Knocking and then the only light when the old lady opened her door to a gallivant. In the Chills the heart hasn't yet set cold.
By Assat Ahmed3 months ago in Writers
With his lady love, today he's gone forever.
I had cherished his love and caressing all my life. He used to light up the darkness behind my fallen eyelids. His voice always clangoured around me and the poetic sound of his laughter kept my heart beating. I was sitting under a blushing tree grasped by his thoughts, when he came telling me about his lady love.
By Assat Ahmed3 months ago in Writers