Buhroo Muzzafar Poems

Hit Title Date Added
1.
Ode To Melancholy

Forget me not, my melancholy.
Speak to me with thy eyes.

Dear melancholy,
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2.
Literary Suffering

Melody of my pain is more poetic than shelley's melancholy.

I want pain not cure,
thy pain art sweet than keat's nightingale;
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3.
O, Jaana

O JAANA O, jaana be less critical, so I may philosophize you; O, jaana be less beautiful, so I may romantise you; O, jaana be less arrogant, so I may admire you. O, jaana be less abstruse, so I may understand you; O, jaana be less talkative, so I may get time to talk with you; O, jaana be less Altruism, so I may be materialistic to you; O, jaana be less anachronistic, so I may search for you; O, jaana be less Deleterious to my heart, So I may spent myself on you;
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4.
When In Was There

Sometimes, I used to think of you in prison, And tears utter what I feel and think of you; O, beloved thine (Haaba) maketh me feel of How soul is prisoned in evil body. Everyone was laughing at me, for nothing.Still you were smiling at me, for everything; In every cry, in every Tear, thou came close to me; in every pain, They adore my pain, And you cried like it was thine pain; when in slept thou came in my dreams and utter in my ears; your pain is my pain, your smile is my smile.
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5.
Misery

When i look at myself; I Percieve How beautiful sorrow am I; when thou want to look at misery; look at me; I am a bird with less materialism and ambition; however I am not disheartened by Looking myself that way; I choose to thy smile;
they choose to be my pain;
the pain that remindes me of thou; When Every walking feet goes from thy Domicile; How come I See thou in dreams;
when sleep is crime; A crime full guiltness and remorse; O, misery Seperate my sanguine from my body; this pain hurts my inner pain;
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6.
Invisible Journey

My invisible impediments are enough to inveterate romonstrances posited by bosom of my heinous bird.O, solicitude thou wilt beguile my melancholy; For me Melancholy is the rapture connexion between my soul and you. How domonstrations of my funeral was being adorned with colors of my poetry. Thou judged my funeral clumsy and buffon and some wert weeping. Gravedigger was crying over my grave as I was shrugged soul.
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