Poetry

MUZZAMMIL SHAH
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MUZZAMMIL SHAH

MUZZAMMIL SHAH, 25 december 2011

The Quality Of God

In torn dress a poor boy,
 
Was standing near a shop,
 
Greeding eyes of this boy,
 
Bare footed, seeking joy in the shop.

 
The shop was full of rich people,
 
There was selling garments and shoes,
 
Toys too, something in the shape of apple,
 
People were in fine dress and shoes.

Nobody paid heed at this boy, 
And his eyes were tearful, 
All were busy in buying toys,
 
But boy was standing thoughtful.

A lady came there who had bright eyes,
Accompanied the boy and entered the shop,
Bought for him garments, shoes and toys,
Buying all they left the shop.

Lady put her hand on his head,
'Go now' said with love,
Boy smiled and turned up his head,
' Are you God? ' asked with love.

She replied with smiling face,
'I'm His slave not God.
'
Answered the boy with confidence, 
'I knew that you must belong to God.'


number of comments: 0 | rating: 12 | detail

MUZZAMMIL SHAH

MUZZAMMIL SHAH, 25 december 2011

The Plight Of Humanity

There is a glade full of flowers, 
Like a new, decorated bride, 
Winds blows slowly, it showers, 
Enjoying nature on steed I ride, 
In woods I reach happily by and by, 
But forced me to pause the deepest sigh.

Bewildered I turn back and see, 
A pretty lady in ragged attires, 
And sobbing under a bald tree, 
To ask her well being, I'm on fire, 
'Who are you and why here? I'm keen, 
Why in ragged dress, mourning thou seen? '

Wiping her tears, she begins to speak, 
'I'm humanity, for what they proud, 
But have forgotten me, so I'm weak, 
Before my death they folded me in shroud, 
From the beats somehow I've taken flight, 
And now you see me in miserable plight.' 


number of comments: 0 | rating: 10 | detail

MUZZAMMIL SHAH

MUZZAMMIL SHAH, 25 december 2011

The Impact Of Love

Love is pretty, sweet and kind, 
Like a beautiful hillside morn, 
Blowing breeze and fragrance bind, 
Then it is in one's heart born.

Life is the knot without love, 
Like a dark night without moon, 
Or something alone high above, 
Writhing badly in scorching noon.

Love is mighty, can make and mar, 
Has many forms and many names, 
Its absence brings hatred and war, 
But, storm and disaster it tames.

Love is holy, His books and favour, 
Creation of angels, man and universe, 
His mercy, prophets and their endeavour, 
It also makes me compose this verse. 


number of comments: 0 | rating: 11 | detail


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