Of e'ery wanton look to nurslings of immortality,
This world forlorn in silent hours of the night,
Yet dreams of eyes to a close afraid;
'Gainst time's measured breath to count I
My reckoning days more bright in Hades of a star,
Of e'ery fig leaf in autumn wind with pen-pricked angels;
The sun in deep azure through studded feelings arise
From out of the blues in still waters, ah, but to think on thee:
All too weird her stigmatized innocence my bosom rends,
While wide awake from deep inside at sunset of evening sky,
Of ages that are dead in my bed of crimson joy;
To morning's pure serene my woe-begone love to thee suffice.
Away from out of sight to my mind still that day of unaltered eye,
A foul fawning bay at my door of unnerved blood in vein,
Many a shooting stars that fall, needest no light,
The crow's quill beside to my e'er living memory,
(C) Naveed Khalid
Copy Rights (C) 2015.
All Rights Reserved.
Date Created: Wednesday, January 28,2015 2: 44: 46 PM
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem