Of Cries That Are Heard Poem by Naveed Saraf

and reaped in green terraces;
and sighs that make the pen sweat,
and the nails labor in drops of seeds;
beneath the tangled curls,
Lo! They trembled in pain.
And as the day died,
and the fearful shadows
passed through the drooping train,
see, those cries cometh with tears
drenched in sweat.
And as the winter chill
hallowed the far reaching sky,
the cries pained in despair.
Crawled beneath the nostrils,
you see, those cries pained.
But all that survived, and
to the far shores reached
were these cries that are heard.
Hence, they are heard
when they survived.

So as you walk handcuffed,
and have the dry lips
pass through the troughs of barren land,
Remember this:
cries are often in distress heard,
in falling skin that melts in pain,
and while untying the fist
far in the woods.

Lo! As the drooping nails sulk
in oft dust-laden window sill,
for the heaven's sake, Lo!
Smile-less faces grace the portrait.
So as the eye-lids walk in fear,
behold the light that simmers in dark,
for that shall earn the waves of shore -
one that struggled in the dark nights.

And when thou hadst read
the harvest of eye-lids
belonged to season of pain,
‘T will be of walk in the rain day
from the beating sun,
to visit the cries that were heard,
and sighs that made the pen sweat.