Naveed Akram Poems

It never raises the ground to the air,
Opening the fountains of despair,
This mind is fused with the soul so finite
That it alone relates to the primary members
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Divine freedom reigns supreme like stars,
Of eternal seconds, bleeding within.
Like a root growing to the ends of time,
One sacred thought rains down hard,
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It was a cultural blessing, for the face of leaves,
Unwrapping themselves with a silent mind.
The face was upturned to relics, to artifice,
And to sentenced weaponry, the bleeders.
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That will best be read by the best is certain,
That which hurt me will be the constant blessing,
One of us shall dry the one’s choice today,
Let only me now.
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Forced by tragedy the tradesmen sell their goods,
Damning the praises coming for their livelihoods;
Cotton, wool and silk give in to their owners,
Wealth shall empower some of the loaners.
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He was still at her feet,
In a tone of despair,
As if he soon after came
And produced justice.
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The wedding-feast is over,
The lawn is dark again,
Shadows boil and become royal,
Like witnesses of the puzzle.
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The talons of desire are upon us all,
The brush of wickedness is abrading the fold
That covers us, with stimulated light
And stunted might, a grievous penalty
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I went many days,
But then some master rejoiced
In my arms, blowing out the
Dark livid cause
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