Naveed Akram Poems

The world has a phase
We call the feeling of lists
And bold names, featuring art
And deaths, and old items.
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The healing of the hundred men so great,
The hearing of a thousand months and nights;
The seeing of the bleeding beasts so bright,
Those who accused the witless devils and demons.
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But you are two and I am one,
Superior talent beside the tree;
The only playing is the board game,
This playing is more of the complexions,
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To be my sincere friend is like your own fate,
To take the pinch and marry the wishes
Is a sudden feature to be highlighted like alms.
A leader of the talents and abilities
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Paint looms on me with balance,
It always shivers as writing sensibly implodes.
My actions resolve, my thoughts blow the wind
As an image glides, a picture dies, and folly
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I am a pilgrim searching for a ride,
To journeys that master the achievement.
I learn of deeds dangerous and dry,
Wet like the rain, easy like the spring.
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After the remaining circles a new birth,
It grew within and without, forming circles.
Under the seas of tranquility it gave a speech,
Forming roses and sweet wine, forgiving all.
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Earth is decaying, soil is erupting,
But one is of this world in silence.
The forest roars with leaves of law,
Those elves are the sylvan beasts
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One comes from the north and south,
The west and east, the winds of heat.
They travel according to signs upon signs,
Underneath the blushing cheeks.
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Going to the same building is a start,
My consultation is coming to be smart;
Never do actions speak to be so clear,
As when the words of the tongue are dear.
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