Naveed Akram Poems
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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.
A Thousand Ways
There are a thousand ways to compel the graces
Of a man in slumber, the heart is aroused by laughter.
It may be satisfaction entering the eyes august,
It might displace the time we command and respect.
Space has a feature of effects commanding the right,
We are police of her wishes; the queen of saying,
The daughter of life commandeers a righteous man
Who has piety of praise, prizes of desire.