Naveed Akram Poems

Looking upon the stars it won't be wrong
To promise the Earth a flattering remark.
For only my heart hugs this clay-like globe
Full of parsimony, its resources are sweeter.
...

There are small portions of this shadowy dark world
Where males rise from the breasts of dark and desolate hills,
Their soldiery is difficult to dig by their dreary nameless state
For a cloud of incense surrounds those who tread on with journey.
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Over hatred a hurt is spoken,
Those demons lurk anointed,
With cherished horns of antelopes,
Washing iron with irate arts.
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The soldier of success is a summer,
Of decibels flying into spring of summers,
Kisses are to the previous sins,
Caresses begged are caresses captured.
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The friend is the dwarf, nowhere is the man with stripes,
For his superior officer died with his rights and rules,
Acts came to use the official guise, with elves to prepare
The food.
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I flew down to the world of trouble,
A myth waved me when I observed the rights.
Grave innards react with the reduced mountain,
The fire for the rock ignited to loosen the crags.
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To exasperate this lonely wanderer is to shoot the brain,
It is mild logic to astound a thief, exasperating him.
To astound the criminal of general state is appalling,
The statement of an offence is in his grasp.
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The piece-rate for making buildings rises
As you build more suddenly and quickly.
Pilfering justifies the innocent as they speak,
But does it mean goodness?
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My dairyman is a crustacean of milk,
The crystals enjoined on him are like silk.
My dairyman is a soldier of liquid,
Once I grab the bottle I contacted.
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Dangers arise from the crypt of hate,
In the whole world is a goodness;
Safe people are describing me,
The jeopardy is never upon us.
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