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.
We Dwell And Yearn
In these smaller moments of turning and yearning,
Where countries embark on adventure as everyone dwells,
And calculus meets trigonometry from the highest tasks,
What is the straight meaning of our worlds and words?
Why do thoughts dwell like houses of the other side?
Many forms invite their guests to dinner, invoking words
To inflame and heat the company of their right habit.
A spider will come and wake up your feelings, detach
The authors from the realities, and sin on those with