Thus, this world that bears witness to thee,
That in largess of some thought alone,
Her enchanting slogans of disparity;
Of precarious days in judgment to count I,
A novice feeling to fill my heart with love
Of what I write at sunset of the evening sky,
Oft in worn-out time with pen-pricked angels,
Of ages that are dead to my eyes so blind:
Full rich content of some vulgar paper to rehearse
E'ery flower upon a barren heath in my bed of crimson joy.
(C) Naveed Khalid
Copy Rights (C) 2014.
All Rights Reserved.
Date Created: Friday, January 16,2015 2: 32: 52 PM
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem