By Humaira Hayat
Gift me a horse,
With a single saddle,
With an unfitted girth,
For an unknown journey,
And I will ride.
Gift me a horse,
With rough reins,
With harsh fur,
For a secret race,
And I will yelp in victory.
Gift me a horse,
With blinders of drapes,
Without stirrups,
For an acute trip,
And I will explore.
Gift me a horse,
A dark horse,
A tough horse,
For a hill point,
And I will be there before all.
Where's Eidi, Mr Prime Minister?
Opinion: Exodus as resistance(The writer in a student of English literature. Feedback at: [email protected])
