Naveed Akram Poems
Comments about Naveed Akram
For Every Storm
For every storm there is a room
And find the palace now,
From deserts are a tomb and gloom,
Where clothes must just allow.
The clothing kisses us on cheek,
When effort made us worse,
The cloth we wear is rather chic,
And worry is a curse.
The storm shall grow at all the speed
That problems make us mad,
You did not follow, or then bleed
As madness is your dad.
In The Death Of Night
In the dead of night, a man begins his flight into darkness,
He says, "The earthy plains and the rivers of might bow down
To objects of delight, fierce winds arise, and earth is no more."
Spaces of the light, you can be him too, like Love be him;
Instead of wine that drops from a height, drain the cup of harm,
Like a delivery of sighing science so succulent and sweet.
The chemistry of the soils are abiding in a hellish land,