Forever Sonnets (Poetry Blog)

O heart, shall you abide where spires ascend, And metal chimeras on smooth pathways glide? Where luxury's soft embrace seems without end, And every whim, beneath the azure sky, is plied? Ah, where folks pursue their egocentric gain, Not the heart, but cunning thought contains sway, Where Innocence sheds melancholic rain, While hunger’s gnawing pangs consume the day. Where human discord, senseless, wakes and rends, And wanton boys their ruthless dominion keep. This city, heart, where vagrants' sorrow wends, And silent burdens, in anguish, softly seep. Then walk with care where gilded streets extend, For here, dear Heart, your solace you must tend. ------ Affaq #Poetry #Sonnets #Orogress #Poemhunter 

From conflict's agony, young spectres softly keen, Their tender plaints, across epochs' heartstrings rent, "What sins are ours?" their fading gaze unseen, By sorrow's flood, their promised joys are spent. For mammon's greed, a game of ruthless sway, Their blossoms torn by engines' fiery breath, Their starry hopes, now cloaked in dim dismay, Their birthright sold, on thorny beds of death. What reason finds, in eyes that well and weep? Those roseate lids, wherein gentle slumber flees, Once radiant as dawn, now gloams swiftly creep, For meagre crumbs they sigh, for sweet release. Haste, then, oh haste! let righteous thunder roll, Mend this wrong, ere vengeance takes its toll. ----- Affaq  #ClassicPoetry #Sonnets 

When flowers smile  It’s spring, The season of bloom. I get rid of My gloomy garb And salty tears. I get out, A dazzling glaze  No more Incognito. I choose the dew, The stars, the selfless sunshine And the scintillating rainbow. I become a pearl  Blessed by love’s Sacred melody  By Shah Jehan Ashrafi

Love's might transcends all wealth and worldly fame, Over chariots, banners held with unwavering eye, Over stately homes and castles built on claim; All are but husks if love should pass us by. No doctor's art can soothe love's piercing pain, A tender wound no words can quite convey. Beyond passing whim, love's enduring reign Commands the heart and leads it where it may. Over rivers deep, where lovers' fortunes lie, Teach the babes of love's soft, tender art, That they may grow, with love their guiding sky, Enfold what's most dear, what wealth cannot impart. If any tale of melancholy can be told, This is love's own story, wondrous and yet old. -----Affaq 

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹 Neither I make a suit, nor I offer a plea,  But ask you pause, for tumult grips my soul. Life's journey we embark, for our spree  In which radiance and shade twin narratives unroll. I've marked the tapers, fortunes on the wane, And witnessed others, opulently bright. My spirit's core, with grace I now explain, No trepidation dims our facing light,  No grievance harbor I, no suit declare, Still shared ambition, fragile, starts to decay. Does fleeting mirth then tear our souls apart? Is this the custom, sorrow's bitter sway? Ah, pace with me, though destinies obscure, Let love's tender promise, transient, yet endure. -- Poet Affaq

My muse, your beauty shines like summer's rose, No painted mask, but truth upon your face. Your golden curls, like sunbeams or like those, A halo round your shoulders, lady of mixed race. You are a Helen, though of different creed, She was public beauty, known to every eye, Not a pagan queen, but whose heart can bleed For those who suffer, and whose spirit's high. She ruled a kingdom, sky-high and wide; No artful paints adorn your cheek so fair; You toil with honest hands, with naught to hide, In every way, you are lovelier than Helen, I declare. My love for you ignites with purer flame, Than any passion the world could claim. ----- Affaq

When sky do weep, each tear a separate woe, How shall my heart from dearest friend be torn? The winds lament, in sighs that sadly blow; How snatch my hand from warmth it hath worn? Lo, the heaven grieves, and fiery bolts do fall From winged steeds, breathing smoke and dread; How may I then from those who love me call My spirit forth, where true-born faith is bred? And the feathered chorister on broken spray Wails alone; how leave my friend in dust? The bloom, forlorn, her perfume stolen away By fumes she made for joy, now foul, unjust. When tender infants in ruin parch and pine, How can I drink sweet sips and call them mine? ------ Affaq  🌹