My garden of shadows
is a blessing filled room
with zillions of totally unharmed verdant trees
and sweet and decorative flowers of various genus
which showers my life with old and generous love,
It has two well-founded tall ancestral trees who shotgun
me from every malefic sin, and they are my guardian,
the auspicious blessing from God;
I have some superfluous but blooming flowers
which glorify my life with euphoria with the sort
of madness of love, and I have dubbed them
as my kinfolk so dumb,
It is environ with all friendly courteous cactus and roses,
which blow up my life with a pinch of some sweet sour berries.
The pages of my book are filled to the brim
with the garden of shadows who harbor me
when I fall down going through some malicious repute,
which make mincemeat of my roots,
tearing my pages, and decamping my heart
and soul as a vetoed fruit.
Ayesha Khalid
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