Treasure Island

Naveed Akram

(15 December 1973 / London, England)

All So Tired


Oh, You are all so tired,
Even in sleep you grow faint;
Let the ears feel pricks and senses,
So that the brain can master this time.

My soul solemnly swears,
Mine is the spirit of a thousand years;
This weary life grows old,
Often does the climbing night?

If ever your yearning for death is known
By some who quickly remark,
Let those with days numbered be
Among the resurrected on the last day.

Submitted: Sunday, July 20, 2014

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Topic(s): peace

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