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.
Your Pain Is Received
Since you have received grief my folly has terminated,
Your pain is my pain, and your face is mine only.
Through the thought of your earthquake and talk of order,
Our disorder grows stronger with the passing hour.
The ointment is severe and harsh on the spirits of decency,
Bending and stretching is the key to our victory always.
Love loses the fight, lovers define the art of kickboxing,
Opening the house of mania and the religion of human rights,