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Shofi Ahmed Mar 11
Light upon the light
High atop the high
Let the lucky brow
Paradise shines
May your most beautiful eyes
Cast a glance!

Let it light up  
A candle in front of the mirror.  
Ah, wild glimpses—  
Ultimately nuanced,  
An enduring treasure,  
Eternity in shadow,  
Gently showing up.  

Dear, the buzz is all in bloom.  
Without one, nothing is whole.  
The sun scrolls down in sizzling gold,  
Never derailing, never sliding back,  
Looping into the shrouded night.  
The color is half full, half light,  
Hues reflecting a zillion stars.  

Time moves in discovery,  
Ever burning the midnight oil—  
The humble moon,  
Lingering beneath your midnight-black locks.  
The color, the fire—will it be the first to spot  
Your veiled face, the true morning rose?
Shofi Ahmed Feb 28
Rose or thorn
choice is yours
from me is only
    LOVE.
Shofi Ahmed Jan 14
I Love
not for
what's in store.

Rose or thorn-
it's your choice.
Shofi Ahmed Jan 13
Life is short is small
or maybe not
Purpose is surely not!
Shofi Ahmed Dec 2024
Just one fleeting glance at you, yet the timeless Earth,
With the deep red roses, holds its breath in awe of your worth.
Daylight and twilight weave together, lost in your spell,
How could I ever describe your beauty? No words could tell.

Shape my heart as you will, so it mirrors your light,
A reflection of your endless grace, so pure, so bright.
See yourself, just once, through your own lovely eyes,
Just how stunningly beautiful you are—beyond the skies.
Shofi Ahmed Dec 2024
No more shall I seek to linger on the silken loop of stars,
Nor will I play at dice in the moonlit, burning woods.
"Let it remain unsung"—the cuckoo’s sweet and lilting refrain;
Lend me but a fleeting shadow to soothe my weary soul.

At dawn’s tender crack, I will wander to the edge of the fading night,
Where the first light spills gently through its shimmering seam.
And though the day may falter, and twilight weep its soft return,
Grant me but a shade beneath the mole of your verdant grove.
Shofi Ahmed Sep 2024
The thorns may have cut my hands off  
but not my will.  
It's mine whether to take the rose—  
yes or no!
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