Dan Writes

  The rain was a symphony of despair, each drop drumming a mournful tattoo on the city's tin roof. Neon signs bled into the asphalt, their garish hues a mockery of the storm's monochrome fury. And there, amidst the swirling mist, she materialized. Draped in a black cloak that swallowed her whole, she was a phantom from a forgotten dream. My heart, a caged bird, slammed against its ribs, wings frantic against the bars of denial. Every instinct screamed her name, but my lips, traitors to my soul, remained silent. She glided towards a waiting cab, a lone moth drawn to a neon flame. As she slid inside, a shaft of light pierced the gloom, illuminating her face. Years etched their passage, lines etched by laughter and tears I hadn't shared. But her eyes, oh, her eyes. They held a sorrow I knew like the taste of my own blood, a language of unspoken words that tore through the storm's din. The cab door slammed shut, a final, brutal punctuation mark on the sentence of our love.

 ab tujhe yaad karna hai, umr bhar tujhe jaan na hai umr bhar tujhe pyaar se zyada teri yaad mein rona hai umr bhar na khauf tha kabhi itne dard ka mujhe na irada tha kisi ko gham dene ka kambakhat tu chal padi zindagi mein aagayi nasl ka hisaab lene aur ek main tehra, bekhabar. besukoon, beqaraar.  ab tu bata tujhe yaad karna hai , tujhe pyaar se zyada, tujhe yaad karna hai , umr bhar. 

 Tum phir kabhi baarish mein milna phir kabhi zara mudke dekhna pata toh chale pyaar katra bhar bhi tha ya vehm tha humara main phir kabhi main phir kabhi jo tumhe pukarun tum bas ek awaaz dena zara pata toh chale intezaar tha teri awaaz ka jo shamein humne baahon mein guzarin thi unhe bhuljane ka dil tha kya humara kya woh lamhe the jo sang tere guzre the kabhi tu bhi mera aashiyan tha kabhi mein teri chaun aur ab dekho na ek dusre ka sawera hain hum bas hain toh ek andhera jo lehrata chalega jab tak hum phir na milein teri baahon mein ek kashish rahegi jab tak woh mujhse na milein kal faramosh nahi  aaj beandaaz hai tere aane ki khabar ne kardiye iktilafat hai dil mein kabhi umr guzre  toh aana chai par jeeinge woh lamhe saare haathon mein haath daal kar shayad pyaar ki daastan hai hi yeh na milenge kabhi toh bhicharne ka wajood hi nahi hoga na jiyenge kabhi toh marne ka taqaza nahi hoga

  My earth, a tapestry of olive scars, Where whispers of pomegranate prayers rise, Echo through alleys veiled in tear-washed bars, Beneath a sky etched with war's grim skies. Children, their laughter shrapnel-shred, Eyes paint battlescapes where dreams should roam, Huddle in shells, where hope lies half-dead, Counting not stars, but bombs finding their home. Mothers, their brows etched with ancient pain, Weave lullabies from sirens' mournful cry; their  hands, a fortress where love still reigns, Shelter young heroes, watching freedom die. Olive branches, once a peaceful dove's plume, Now stand, defiant, stark against the blast, Roots deep in memories, refusing to consume  The whispers of a future, shadows grasped. On cobbled streets, graffiti dreams defy, Murals bloom where rockets kiss the night, A symphony of colors paints the sky, Where phoenix hope takes flight. Though my soil bears battles' grim caress, And walls bear witness to bitt