The shivering fever

Raised the air up

In curls,as from the hearth ,

Trembled the swarthy clouds

Breaking them into tears.

Confined dreams ran out

Danced in that shower

Ignoring the threats of cold.

Words, too, poured out

Ignoring the omen of curses.

My soul and flesh,out there,

Swung with the tones of rain.

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About Fathima Manal

Dreams,fantasies,words and rhythm-other than skin,bones and muscles I am made up of these.With every drop of blood that my heart pumps,a new dream forms in me.With every breathe,i take the surroundings too inside me.And my poems are just the minute regurgitants of what i accumulate within. I am a doctor from Kerala,India,who should not be supposed to but is in deeply love with words and books more than medical books.Hope you enjoy my poems......

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