Poem By Gulam Abbas Hashmi

Summon to you -
all those hidden and pampered thoughts;
come forth and fight,
not for the world,
but yourself.
You idiots of cognition;
take a look, a nice look again;
these after showers are nonetheless old
these are newly sprouted-
of your greedy and brooded thoughts,
compelling those who are rather vulnerable.
The mist is not of rain that bless;
but uncertainty that floats while you spun;
your sophisticated self.
I call upon you.
Come now, face yourself
You coward little-

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