A White Rose
By Mayyu Ali
She wears a white rose
and watches us killing
our wounds gush blood and
spray to the rose pinned in her bun
The rose’s fragrance has faded
It now smells of blood
blood of me
blood of ...
My Time
Pacifist Hoque
Days pass without the wind of hope
just thinking how to live up
in a safer world, with all my rights.
Nights pass without a fall of slumber
as all dreadful distant memories
emerge in sleep as nightmares.
(08-06-2020)
Editorial Team
#TheArtGardenRohingya
