Osama Waqar Biography

I see the young, I see the old,
I see their every face.
I see the world in sands of time,
With oceans in the race.
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We will have no more than a life to own,
We will reap, sure, what we have sown;
There will be years of despondence,
They can be good by a happy tone.
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Why walk with soul so dead?
Why move as to pretend?
Why eat with such a dread?
Why drink with easing bend?
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Ah! Islamic republic of Pakistan! Isn't it so?
By the facts n' figures and truth n' lies it is not.
The cheery land, once deserved by them;
We do not merit this. Oh! What a shame?
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O' What a throbbing attitude,
For my delicious solitude.

For on the grass yet greenly still,
And in the gardens of the hill.
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