Time Is Of Love Poem by Naveed Akram

Time Is Of Love



Time is a destination called Love,
It reads itself in the annual dreams,
Forgiving, resenting and pacifying,
Like tanks of war and tanks of peace.

My dream creates another failing image,
Lulling the night's despair little by little,
Sleep is all due to my simplicity,
Slept ones are those who have souls.

Time is next of all, it tests the superiority
Of souls to the inner energy,
That contained in the matter of our times,
In the universes and the religions of old.

Time shall pay its transparent age,
The contract appears all too gladly,
To see the pages of a day that seeks
Enlightened spirits always in the sway.

My heart and my desire are lusts,
So that timely events give birth to resonating
Designs, always the created spasms,
Always the read variety of day and night.

My teasing few are like my children,
Tears flow from their eyes,
Noses drip with sweat when they are seated
Like icicles and like fruits of the oldest time.

Many hearts are of this food inside,
The stomach of your genius is a going,
The best going creates a fulfilling remedy
For the oldest book, the oldest letter.

Saturday, January 31, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: time
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Naveed Akram

Naveed Akram

London, England
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