Naveed Akram (15 December 1973 / London, England)
Like A River
Very much like a river, the life sways
So as never to be accepted,
My oppressed conscience is like my finger,
My finger is the oppressed conscience.
I have a hold on the finery of existence,
My lines reflect this accomplishment,
For it was a disaster and a tragedy
To accompany me while my sins persisted.
Very much like bliss, the life
Mends all thought and contentment enters,
This river called life begins
And ends without telling us.
Comments about this poem (Like A River by Naveed Akram )
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