Husna Amin Biography

In the darkest hours of insanity,
When the living-with-a-heart, loses control
Every action turns into a ruthless killing of the self
And, in the darkest hours, the soul, do they shout in pain?
...

When there’s this season, this season of innocence
Let us play this game of truth
High above that universe converse…
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In an unending space of undefinable beauty,
There she holds a clean mirror...
From her pen goes the unadulterated truth,
She is an honest observer.
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In your soft hands I keep mine,
Holding the tiny fingers I feel divine.
Have I ever told you my babies, you are my precious gifts from God?
Feel my heart through my touch, dear little angels
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She sat under the yellow tree, singing hymns to life
When rain drops fell on her aspiring soul
She understood she had to continue singing the song
As night fell on the dust around her
...