Poetry

Globo photo

By

Feroz Khan Jamali

Peshawar the City of Roses

If I imagine with closed eyes I feel fragrance, life, happiness dances over the beat of a drum.

Magnificence.

When I step in this city I feel as if a lover is waiting for me in red dress like a bride, she is waiting for me anxiously.

As I open the eyes then I see the colour of red dress scattered in the air

The fragrance changes into the smell of blood.

The beat of drum and dance change into blast and dispute.

Magnificences change into lonely streets

The girl who dressed in red dress like a bride

Now she seems to widow who with scattered hair and torn scarf.

She is like a droop flower who is calling from her red lips which are like red roses.

Her voice is heart shattering.

Make me the city of roses once again

Make me bride again

Decorate my hands with the colour of soil as Hina.

Which gives the fragrance of love

Cover my head with the sheet of roses of peace and love which quench the fire of hatred.

She is calling again and over again.

Make me bride again

Make me the city of roses again

She echoes again and over again, decorate me like a bride again

Make me a city of roses once again.

Feroz Khan Jamali

Feroz Khan Jamali is from Islamabad, Pakistan.