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A few of the accusations are on their own

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Khawaja Mir Dard is called the Imam of Sufi poetry in Urdu. Dard is a style poet. On some of his simple poems, Mir’s style is definitely deceptive, but if you look carefully, the style of both is completely different. In the poetry of pain, the element of contemplation is prominent, while Mir keeps thought subordinate to feeling, however, surrender in love and passion are common here and both slowly burn. There is no less virtual love here. Glimpses of the beloved while alive are found in his words.

A few of the accusations are on their own
We will do what we came for

It’s life or there’s a storm
We will die by the hands of this living

Shall we work with these gills, O Saba?
Come and go here and there

Friends saw all of the show
You stay happy and we go home

Oh, just don’t burn it, then know
When a myth comes upon him

I am a kind hearted friend
How many wounds have you heard?

We are like a candle in this world
They came till the end

Looking beyond you
Sheikh Sahib left the house and went outside

We can’t get out of you
He came and went everywhere

We were lonely where we came
Take it with you now

Like evil, foolish beings
We also went about our turn

It seems to be a maid, come on
When Tilak could only walk, Sagar walked

All these people know something
Where did they come from?

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