Lo! What Is This Poem by Prof Niamat Ali Murtazai

In bereavement I was walking along a road
When I saw in my life a startling episode.
Heavy heart had forced my glance to be cast down
Wilderness surrounded me in the busy town.
At once I saw a young man without sense
Mad he could be called in a romantic sense.
His locks, saturated with dust, were like flax braids
It seemed it was all the same for him dark nights, bright days.
His beard was like Anxiety's torn portrait
Along the road he sat knowing no hurry or late.
He seemed an old statue of misery and plight
Who had not permitted to come near all delight.
Flies were examining his head and walking on face
Reason was at loss to understand the sad case.
Like a generous lord he distributed charity
To all those who were defunct in hilarity.
Or like a stigma on society's bright forehead
A nightmare for the soft. warm luxury bed.
O! the conquerors of skies tell me what is this?
Unless all human are not man, all plans dismiss.