Biography of Awsaaf Ali
Awsaaf Ali Poems
Love In Infinity
In the wild dimensions where the love raced into infinity, There she whispers from the black hole, 'love is just another name for curiosity...'
The Bleeding Smoke Of Love
Under the cloud where the velvet smoke bled, 'Love's a curse' the smiling soul said; The blood in the dwarf's heart then froze, When an indecisive liar presented her the rose...
Waiting for the day to cease, Where I shall hug you in your nothingness, Knowing that you're absent of light, nonetheless. Everyday you die,
Smiles o' that clown, and jokes, As he whispers into my ears, Then fill my eyes, With nothing, but tears.
A Poem's Art
I Our forbidden desires trickle, From our broken words,
Busy street hath t'en tranquility kiss'th, Along my footsteps mild wind blow'th, Bottle o' absinthe hath the stranger consumed, Never to notice, an' leave my body doomed...
For months, I waited to embrace her, And then she came, I cuddled her with no shame, Standing naked under her presence,
The Unseen Saw
The thief of Acrona, I lied, Robbing tourists and escaping plight... The inevitable magic in my eyes, Was spotted in the princess' eyes,
Chants o' thy escapin' requiem, Chairs on t'se broken doors dust kiss'th, Paint on t'se walls, incomplete rest'th, Nails o' mine, thou out pull'th,
Contemporary words hath I evaded, Sweared to swear thine, Fo' the respect o' thee faded, Throwed me, e'ry words o' fame thou lied,
Strings o' de'd piano singeth, Voices beaneth its heart, expelleth, Movin' sadness o' my grave, murmureth, Coffin o' t'se broken love weep'th,
Soul o' thy chirpin' melodies, Ink o' thy timid symphonies, Collects me, t'se calmeth tranquilities, Requiem t'en pierceth my heart,
Frozen blood o' thee lie, I stareth thy te'rs crawleth, Numb fingers o' thine, De'd rose, soken wine,
Thy rose rots, ami'st my feet an' the door, Pleading, the fragrance its to be sucketh an' bitter wine pour, Blisters dropp'th from thy swirlin' shore, Boun'less pain stabbeth me more,
Thy rose rots, ami'st my feet an' the door,
Pleading, the fragrance its to be sucketh an' bitter wine pour,
Blisters dropp'th from thy swirlin' shore,
Boun'less pain stabbeth me more,
Thy gift'd feather, thy ink pouch, leather,
Those symphonies maketh me smile, no more,
Beneath the cores de pumping meat, I solemnly adore,
Curious stem o' rotten rose whispereth,
Thy reminiscences under my chest crawleth,