Pata hain maine fir ishq likha hain...
Lekin thora sa alag andaj main...
Na is bar akhon pe dubna likhunga,
na un Kajal failne ko kayamat likhunga...
na un julfon per samundar ki gahrai likhunga,
Na wo lal chunni ko jang e mohabbat likhunga...
na un muskano pe khile huye safed gulab likhunga...
na Masoom un chehre ko koi nur likhunga ... Iss bar main mulakat likhunga ,,, lekin pahli baar wali koi baat nehi likhunga...

Mumkin hai shikast meri thokar ka nishan ban jaye,
Rahein badal jayein, aur chand bhi pehchan khone lage,
Jo socha na tha, woh manzar meri dastaan ban jaye.
Magar mere kirdar ki jo mazaal hai,
Mere siva uski koi aur mukammal na karsake

Mujhe patang nahi banna, Jiski udan kisi dor ki mohtaj ho. Chahe chhu le woh aasmaan ki wusat, Par uski har kashish pe kisi aur ka raaj ho.
Jab katti hai dor, toh zameen par aa girti hai, ​ ​ ​ ​ Kuch koshish karti hain, apna manja tod kar naye asmaan ki... Par unka hashr bhi wahi hota hai, Jaise keechad mein dabe kisi bikhre hue phool ka. ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​Woh chahkar bhi riha nahi ho saktin... Mujhe patang nahi banna.
Toh phir azaadi kya hai? Kisi khule maidan mein tanha baith kar, Hujoom-e-shahar ko bas guzarte dekhna? Ya aasmaan mein parindon ke kaafile ko, Sath milkar udte hue dekhna?
Kya kisi mez par chaar kursiyon ke beech, bas ek ka intikhaab karna? Ya bhare raaston par apna akelepan chhupane ke liye, Nigaahein bas apne phone par jhuka lena?
Shor-bhari mehfil mein khud ko sannate ke hawale karna? Kisi anjaan shehar mein kahan aur kyun jana... bas yahi sochna? Ya safar chahe jo bhi ho, Hamesha muqaddar mein sirf ek hi ticket ka hona?
Kya waqai yahi azaadi hai? Yeh rihayi ka kaisa fareb hai, jo aaj samajh nehi arah... ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​Mujhe azaad hona tha, Gumnaam nahi.

 Shab-e-taarik se lad kar, subah toh hum laaye.....
Noor duniya pe barsa, aur numaya koi aur hue. ​ ​ ​ Apne hisse mein toh bas shab ki thakan aayi thi, ​ ​ ​ Subah hote hi, kisi aur ki khaatir hum so gaye.

 Maine chhode hain nishaan apne, agar dhoond sako toh dhoond lena,
Chhod aaya hoon har ek aansu, agar samet sako toh samet lena.
Dafan kar aaya hoon kitne hi panne apni mazi ke,
Ab agar raakh mile un panno ki, toh use mitti pe mila na dena.
Dekh lena un nishano mein aaj bhi sirf naam hai tera,
Padh lena un yaadon mein aaj bhi sirf saaya hai tera.
Samajh lena ki na milna hamara mukaddar tha, nakaamyabi nahi,
Gawaah hai har ek guzra lamha, ki intezaar mera sacha tha.
Ab khair, tum bhool jana aur doob jana phir se,
Kisi aur samundar ki gahrai ki dilkashi mein...

Ki insaan kitna gehra gir sakta hai, Apne hi banaye hue aasman se.
Main ek daur se guzra tha, Ya shayad woh daur mujhse guzra— Jaise waqt ne apni ungliyon se, Meri rooh par kuch likh diya ho.
Us sooraj ki roshni mein nahi, Hum toh uski raakh mein jale the.
Ajeeb thi yeh dastaan— Hum jee kar bhi jee na paye, Aur rooh jal kar bhi amar hui.
Hum toot kar bhi mohabbat likhte rahe, Khaalipan ko apna ghar maante rahe. Lekin khamoshi kuch aisi thi, Jahaan khud se hi na mile the hum.
Waqt ke seene par Kitne hi nishaan chhode the, Magar apni hi kahaani mein, Kahin gum the hum.
Ab naye safar par nikalo mujhe, Bohot ho gaya ab yeh gham. Kaafile chalte rahenge yahan, Kisi naye sooraj ke aangan mein.

Kya bana diya hai zindagi, tune mujhe?
Jahan se lautna ab mumkin hi nahi.
Ek aise samundar ke kinare khada kiya hai tune,
Bas ek sukoon ka khwab tha in aankhon mein,
Magar kankalon ke dher par mita diya hai tune mujhe.
Ab na is samundar ka darr , na un kankalon ka khauf, hain
Tune jahan lakar thukraya tha, maine wahi banaya apne ghar hain.
Tu dhoondti rahegi ab us purane shakhs ko, ae zindagi ,
Jise tune mara tha, maine use wahin dafan kiya hain

Is shamshan ghat ko phool bhi tabhi naseeb hue, 
Jab ek aur pyaar aakar dafan hua isme... 
Beej toh boye the usne har dafa is banjar zameen par, Magar mitti ki pyaas tab bujhi, 
​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​jab aansu bahe isme.

Mujhe sabr aur gham virasat mein mile the,
jaise kisi purkho ki adhoori baddua hoon main.
Main jab bhi khwaahish ko haath lagata hoon,
taqdeer apni ungliyaan kheench leti hai.
Mere kirdar par zamaane ki wafadaari ka bojh hai,
isliye har dafa main hi bewafa sabit hota hoon.
Main ishq ko mutthi mein bharne ki koshish karta hoon,
magar woh reet nahi… meri saansein bankar phisal jata hai.
Aakhir mein bachta kya hai?
Ek khamosh sa aadmi,
jo haar ko bhi muskurakar pehen leta hai

Main chahta hoon mere hazaar janam hon... Hazaar na sahi, kam se kam utne toh hon, Jitne logon ko maine is zindagi mein apna maana tha.
Lekin is baar thodi adla-badli ho... Meri jagah woh hon, aur unki jagah main. Mujhe unhein yeh ehsaas nahi dilana, Ki main kitni dafa toota, kitni baar andar se cheekha. Nahi.
Main unhein woh pyaar deta, jiski mujhe talab thi... Main unhein sikhata ki ishq aakhir kehte kise hain. Main unhein batata ki naazuk dilon par kaante kitna chubhte hain.
Main unke gusse mein kahe gaye lafzon ko sunkar chhod na jata, Main unhein kaske gale lagata... Ho sake toh unke dukh mein, unke sath ro bhi deta. Main unhein yakeen dilata ki aakhir tak main sath khada hoon.
Na waade karke bhoolta, na kisi naye ke aane par chhod jata, Na unse uub kar palat jata, na hasne ke liye unka mazaak banata. Main unke andar ke toofanon se darr kar bhaagta nahi, Aur na hi unki narmi ko unki kamzori samajhta.
Na unhein raaton ko akela rone deta, na unki khwahishon ko kuchalta... Kuch bhi ho jata, main unhein chhod kar na jata. Main unka sath deta... Har pahaad par, har jheel par, har nadi ke kinare... Main unka sirf saya nahi, Main unka sath hota.

Heaven was mirrored in her eyes—radiance unbroken.
But heaven fractured, and shadows wore the crown.
The angelic turned venomous, the sacred turned ruin.
Departure was not desire, only necessity.
Now nothing lingers but a hollow frame.
Love, empathy, tenderness—long exiled.
A body remains, but the soul has long departed

Suna tha, rooh jab bhookhi ho toh bazaar-e-ishq mein nahi jaate,,,,Aisi halat mein log aksar zeher ko bhi giza maan lete hain. 
​ ​Magar meri is khokhli zindagi ka sabse bhayanak sach yahi hai— Mujhe kisi ki talab hoti hi tab hai, Jab main akelepan ki bhookh se mar raha hota hoon.

Maut maangi thi, magar jeene ki aadat ho gayi, Dard itna tha ki ab dard se raahat ho gayi.
Raakh ko pehen liya, toh rooh ko sukoon mila, Zindagi se humein aisi yeh tijaarat ho gayi.
Aasmaan khud hi banaya tha, khud hi tod diya, Apni hi dastaan se ajeeb si baghaawat ho gayi.
Log poochte hain, kahan gaya woh shakhs purana? Kise batayein, ki uski wahin par shahaadat ho gayi.
Zeher ko pee liya humne muskurahaton ke parde mein, Khaalipan ko sehne ki ab aisi ibadat ho gayi.

Main faqeer hoon... isliye nahi ki mere paas daulat nahi, balki isliye ki apni saari haisiyat neelam karke bhi, main beeta hua ek lamha nahi khareed saka.
Main kaisa juari hoon... na jaane muqaddar ki kis baazi mein uljha tha, jahan apni zindagi ke sabse qeemti paanch saal main khamoshi se haar gaya.
Meri bebasi ki inteha toh dekho... aankhon ke saamne har ghanta, har minute, har second khaak hota raha, aur meri kaanpti hatheliyaan ek lamhe ko bhi mutthi mein thaam na sakin.
Main is qadar muflis hoon... ki apne hi wajood ke hisson ko ek-ek karke dam todte dekha hai, magar tabaahi ke is manzar mein kisi ek ko bhi bacha na saka.
Main woh lutt gaya shakhs hoon... jisne apne adhoorepan aur apni khaamiyon ke sabab, apne jazbaat aur apni mohabbat ko kisi aur ke naseeb mein bikte dekha hai. Magar ajeeb baat kahoon? Maine roka kisi ko nahi.
Log kehte hain kisi shayir ne farmaya tha— "Jo tera hai, woh ek din laut aayega." Ghalat kehta tha woh shayir... ya shayad woh apni jagah bilkul theek tha. Magar shart sirf itni hai ki woh shayir ameer raha hoga. Waqt ka ameer, husn ka ameer, mukammal wajood ka ameer, sehat aur daulat ka ameer.
Kyunki is duniya ki aakhri haqeekat yahi hai miyaan... ki muflisi mein toh apne saaye bhi laut kar nahi aate, ishq toh bahut door ki shai hai.

I left the rigid architecture of equations, The hollow comfort of a calculated line. For logic cannot map the anatomy of shadows, Nor chart the quiet spaces where detachment intertwines.
When the heavy city sun surrenders to the evening, I strike the pavement, pushing miles into the black. This is not merely the forging of muscle and breath, But a rhythmic flight from ghosts who cannot drag me back.
My hands have learned the brutal, silent truth of soil— How shattered bone and powder must feed the creeping vine. I coax out brilliant life from the earth’s quiet graveyards, Studying the fragile flesh that soon enough is mine.
I bear the quiet weight of heavy, passed-down ledgers, Pacing a parallel road so others might ascend. It takes a mind well-versed in melancholic echoes, To know exactly when to break, and when to simply bend.
I am the architect of my own shadowed canvas, Sifting through the ashes where the old illusions lie. As the blade of tomorrow waits to part the skin of fate, I keep running through the dark, letting the embers die.