Naveed Akram Poems

One fights the life of philosophy,
Life enters the zone of tranquility;
You might be in the phase of gentlemen,
But construct your wellnesses easily.
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I want your person to evolve from oneness
Like little gnomes who strut liking the true alley,
These small children evade the young men
Who see the heaven’s gates open in front of the wall.
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To be this garden is to be found
With a name distressed as the flowers,
They abide in the well of anxiety,
Their illness lies in the wilting of time.
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The brain transmits a thought of light,
Focussing on the image sublime,
Fitting a sordid time of spine,
Living no lie with no lie visible.
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Open the door to Paradise if your hurt is special,
For then the polite soul creates itself in some line,
To feel this line creates so many shortnesses,
For the soul is nobody but the defender of his case.
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I see the whole bun of meals,
These controversial people object
To easy meals, suffering from them
As the heat climbs and you taste
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This philosopher of thoughts made himself soul,
The man whose supremacy climbed above,
Glistening and polishing other souls,
Yet never agreeing with the same religion
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What is good O perfect saint?
What is right with those who do a perfect priest?
Those are the righteous,
These are the very hostile to transgressors.
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Waves draw back in the distance,
Smart and simple waters up to the waist.
The ebb is certain, like the teeth that munch,
Forming a tide of grief.
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An avalanche was a screen to be with skill,
On the fourth of July a smaller man became;
Then they rejoiced with wicked nature,
A myriad of martyrs wickedly destroyed
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