When simplicity multiplies
When our world magnifies
We discover what we deny
The rooted source of life
That we're all untitled
And we're all not idoled
But our love is vital
When we're all untitled
Rip the pain out of your chest
Let's a play a beat of solid breaths
Slowly rising, rising from the dead.....
Above the noise that covers our heads...
Love is light, love is fire
Love burns when it's most desired...
So let's sing the tune.....
Love to the loveless....
Love to the breathless...
Who are all untitled....
In a full white page....
We are all untitled.....
With our love to exchange....
So let's bring them home....
Let's bring the loveless home....
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Comments about this poem (Untitled by Lubna Hazeem )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936)
(563 BCE - 483 BCE)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
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