Naveed Akram Poems

In an effort to cure the weak,
Some of the doctors are enough
In intellect, in craze, and in importance.
As destruction looms, a blast created
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I am fearful of you, as a pen writes for me,
Inside you caresses speak, with loud lamentations.
You dearly write of the weeks ahead,
Causing months to speak and mutter
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To the return I say thanks,
To some of the stains is peace,
And a language begins to melt,
To bend in worse categories.
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I see and hear all sounds
In the space of an hour.
These small letters forbade us from energy,
The energy is used by senses,
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I occupy him when I dream,
His mind addresses the dream.
His interaction can be cruel,
But why do we cry for him?
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How certain is the love we sought so near?
The loves of certainty are great and dark,
My hatred goes to those I hate and bark
Near emptiness and justice to appear.
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Luck reminds me of sin,
Sins collect from the odour.
A fortune fades, faces do fight,
How do we describe the sins?
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Fast and slow, after the speed has shown,
We travel as far as heaven, and run back.
This distance denigrates our holiness,
It is sometimes a face, some of us tearfully resign.
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