By Iqra Akhoon

My Dumbstruck body
with clotted blood,
endure tortuous days
and terrible nights.

Silence stuck in throat
That Strives to cry .
Forms quite dew drops
In deep arid well.

Aching heart with heavy sighs,
Those taunts and scolds,
Those unbearable fies,
And my firm belief
To tackle it hard.

Those books never dried
bears which, the history
Of my lakes and Niles.
Under the dawned sky
living on dusky desert,
With no oasis no mirage.

Yet a soothing word
Could have an effect,
But that too remains
Far away far back.

You know that oyster ,
Which Suffers from somber pain,
But what you care
For The fruit it bore.

kunan poshpora
Kunan Poshpora rape victims ranged between the ages of 8 and 80.

I left no single leaf
On my autumn body,
To protest against
The barbaric frost
And in this way
I was being eroded forever
Here I am bearing
An untold story
That nobody can hear
And I can’t share.


via With Kashmir
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