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Categories: My Poems
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Published on: November 28, 2017

A humble poem I wish to share


When all was created and the pens were lifted and the ink had dried
A humble few were destined to live in blessed land of honour and pride

Soon, they walked upon the mountains & through valleys living with a code
There was a simple man who sought to marry his bride to dwell in this abode

From those blessed two came a child who took the name from his father’s cut
In this beginning, many of us can only imagine, was the first Mohabbat

But this land in which they did dwell was strategic and often sought
The tyrants, conquerors and liberators could tame and rule them not

The victories of those who came before us defined and wrote the pages
History is humbled as it reports of its produce of scholars and sages

So much more can be said but words cannot do this legend it’s justice
Let us not remain the nation that told stories, rather let’s put it all to practice

The mind is only freed by knowledge of what it did not know
Thus we fail and cannot rise again because of what we sow

Much is said in folk tales and traditions of this noble khans legends & legacy
Love is his name, Mohabbat, where hearts are safe from the evils of heresy

Jalal Omar Mohabbat

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