Photorealistic refugee camp

Poverty and Enchanting Voice, Read Here A Poem

Beloved, your voice is captivating,

When you come,

The atmosphere awakens to dance.

When I see your face,

Nothing else comes into view,

Your eyes pour nectar into my soul.

Beloved, but there are other imprints

On my heart.

In the dreamlike land,

Ruined gardens,

Silent cries of the people

Nodding their heads,

Bodies without flesh

Under the cloak of poverty.

Aslam Murad

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