In valleys where the whispers flow, Between the peaks where stories grow, Uzma stands with heart aglow, For she sees what soon will show. A screen to share the tales of old, From Lahore's streets to Kabul's gold, Ties of kin and bonds retold, Where past and future gently fold. Across the lands, horizons near, Pakistan to Afghanistan, dear, In frames hope dances, bright and clear, A world uniting, year by year.