His face shunned my eyes as they glared
At mystery of the arts and edges;
These men were fellows of happenings
Or events, yesterday the burden was aloft;
Spring was nearer than the mathematical era,
Opening the doors of faith with flat heart,
A heart was mountain to the head.
The fountain of joy was a similar respect,
Shunning me with its glory that shook
The edges of my face fading into farces,
Shaking errors at marvelled mates of the rain.
The tears of shallow waters forsook
A window into delights of the heart.
Let faces be shadows offering some a reply,
Lazy is the face that condemns,
A face will convince us with its splendour.
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Comments about this poem (Glaring Eyes by Naveed Akram )
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