My Acts Of Old Age - Poem by Naveed Akram
My acts are numberless due to old age,
Inside the front of my vision I am a cute baby;
Meeting me in the forefront is like occupations,
Lulling the flight, loathing the light, living the sight.
For the loose layers of the soul are starless,
Seeking the eyes of a wayward warrior.
My actions are actual, many freezes I have been,
With so solid matters of the taste and paste.
It were the acts of a livid war that were atrocious,
Wars halved the agenda of a whole nation,
In fact, the county declared war outright.
My acts are not accusatory, nor are the spread wings
A wonderful calumny, for my flying lesson is at an end.
This desire of the heart is against all hope,
Wayside warriors will object to the warlike men.
On the road they travel to the outermost regions,
Wayward mirror-like wasters are all warrior,
Traveling the stretch so calm and endearing.
Comments about My Acts Of Old Age by Naveed Akram
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You