Banks Of The River Poem by Naveed Akram

As I sway to the other side of the river,
The bank is arriving, the banks are retelling;
I see a tale to be delivered, a tail is made,
To walk the action of a boulder and man.
I must hurt with pain, the pains of my forefathers,
To reveal a sacred joy, the one of survival.

I must wait for the water to recede from pain,
By lifting the self from wrong of currents and torrents;
These operations on the personal matter
Are joining with my memories of ancient men,
Water and air for them were elements so great
That everywhere they were discovered by the soul.

I must be in no hard panic of pale heartache,
I must be a united man of water and ice,
My fixtures are of the reader’s qualities;
This river is a burden to the opposite side,
The lakes are brimming with disfavour,
But the rivers destroy the very Hereafter.