Tere Ishq Mein Ghayal Today

In your ishq, the pain is not a poison. It is a pilgrimage. Every ache is a prayer bead. Every sleepless night is a temple. Every drop of sweat on my brow is a verse I cannot speak aloud.

Not by the careless turn of your wrist, or the sharp edge of your goodbye. No—I was wounded by the first sajda of your eyelash. You looked at me, and I bled poetry. tere ishq mein ghayal

The Lovely Wound

So let me bleed. Let me stumble. Let me fall at your feet until my bones turn to dust. In your ishq, the pain is not a poison

For in this wound, I have found my soul’s address. And there is no cure I want. No healing I seek. In your ishq