Thursday, February 11, 2016

In My Confused Spirit

In this confusion my moments are thoughts,
Ringing and wrongs complain from the heart
When my blood runs deep into the bones.

You are like my inner straight path, a follower
Finds the fanatic in himself, a disciple deals
With his master with a bone to the heart.

It is love that is the clothing of a frightful being,
Love entrances my beliefs as they progress into
A loving ritual, forever in jeers and praises.

In my confused being I contemplate, I dissipate,
And worries for the sense in the sight are abating
Dutifully, with draining of the heart's knowledge.
Naveed Akram
Topic(s) of this poem: confusion

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1/21/2021 6:01:53 PM #