Category Archives: Poetry English
Five Questions for the Comfortable (Previously, Hey you)
You glorify sacrifice from your bed, shed tears for the dead you never knew, and judge poverty you’ve never tasted—do you really believe you know anything at all?
A blistering, accusatory poem structured as five direct challenges to anyone who judges others without having lived their experiences.
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Hey you!
Standing on a pedestal, all proud and tall,
being so judgmental, posting verdicts on the wall
Ever walked in their tattered shoes or worn their torn skin?
Do you really believe, you fool, you know it all?
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Hey you!
Glorifying death, and singing laurels for the dead,
talking about sacrifice, straight from the comfort of your bed
Ever fought a war or perhaps shed a single drop of blood?
Do you really believe, you fool, that genuine are the tears you shed?
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Hey you!
Have you ever felt the ridicule, the pain from the poisoned darts?
Have you ever heard the wailing of sad and broken hearts?
Ever fallen in love and faced the demons of rejection?
Do you really believe, you fool, you know life, full and in parts?
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Hey you!
Have you ever experienced hunger or felt its jolting pangs?
Have you ever been bitten by poverty, with its bared fangs?
Ever slept a night in the open, without a single, little morsel?
Do you really believe, you fool, the bell of fate never clangs?
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Hey you!
Have you ever seen the dead rotting under the scorching sun?
Have you ever lost someone, perhaps a loved one?
Ever seen someone returning from across the threshold?
Do you really believe, you fool, you can save yourself and run?
Hope in Your Darkest Hour
Loss comes in many forms: a son in the ground, a toy in pieces, a life nearly spent - but hope whispers the same message to each broken heart.
A tender, empathetic poem that addresses three figures experiencing profound sorrow: an elderly mother grieving her son, a young boy mourning a broken toy, and an old man facing mortality. Through a recurring refrain that acknowledges “your darkest hour,” this consoling verse offers a gentle perspective on different scales of loss - from childhood disappointments to the finality of death.
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It is your time, my friend, it is your darkest hour,
it is seemingly the end, joys and sorrows at par
All seems lost, and all seems dour,
all appears grey, and smiles are all sour
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You sitting by that grave, yes, you, the old hag,
appearing to be brave, holding onto your old bag
Why do you sob and why do you weep?
Was it your son, whom you loved so deep?
Please, do not cry, wipe off all these tears,
he is not gone, pray hush all your fears
Look into your heart, you will find him there,
he is but a memory away, with a face so fair
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It is your time, my friend, it is your darkest hour,
it is seemingly the end, joys and sorrows at par
All seems lost, and all seems dour;
all appears grey, and smiles are all sour
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You holding a broken toy, yes, you, the poor boy,
crying your heart out, you have lost all joy
Why do you sob and why do you weep?
Was it your treasure, you intended to keep?
Please, do not cry, do not be cross,
it is, but the first step on the stairway to loss
More toys will come, each precious and dear,
more toys will come with each new year
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It is your time, my friend, it is your darkest hour,
it is seemingly the end, joys and sorrows at par
All seems lost, and all seems dour,
all appears grey, and smiles are all sour
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You, lost in your reverie, yes, you, the old man,
all sick and tired, separated from your clan
Why are you sad, and why are you so glum?
Do you feel bad about what you have become?
Please, do not be sad, do not detest yourself,
it is, but our destiny, life always solves itself
Your days were a chapter in the grand book of life,
your soul was a traveler on the path to the afterlife
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It is your time, my friend, it is your darkest hour,
it is seemingly the end, joys and sorrows at par
All seems lost, and all seems dour;
all appears grey, and smiles are all sour
The Anatomy of Love
Real love isn’t found in kisses—it’s found in the darkness you’re willing to accept.
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Love comes not,
when you kiss her smiling lips and turn your feelings South,
and find them sweet and moist, past that formidable pout
And love comes not,
when you hold her hand and choose to kiss her bitter mouth,
and find it sour and so parched, her sadness, an eternal drought
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Love comes not,
when you lie down together, the naked you with the naked her,
her warmth entwined with yours, and the feelings that you stir
And love comes not,
when you hold your ego in check and laugh and cry with her,
the silly mistakes you commit, and the boundaries that you blur
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Instead, love comes,
when you walk in her shoes and choose to fight her fight,
finding all that is absolutely dark, and finding all that is light
And love comes,
when you feel the warmth with joy and own the day with pride,
when you walk the path to darkness, you trace the origin of night
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Love really comes,
when you sneak into her soul, and see the real wreckage,
finding all that is rotten, the ugly weight of her baggage
And love really comes,
When you search for her broken heart and find the only passage,
owning all that is rotten, sharing the burden of her baggage
Me and the Devil, Walking Side by Side
What if the Devil was never evil—only loyal, misunderstood, and condemned?
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Me and the devil,
walking side by side
Me, the eager follower,
and him, the patient guide
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“Disobedience and arrogance?
Why, when you were His chosen?
Deviance and decadence?
Why, when you showed no cozen?”
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“Disobedience?”
The lightning flashed,
and in his eyes, a dark anger lashed
“It was always my plan,
not bowing to you, a helpless man”
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“Arrogance?”
The thunder boomed,
he whispered deeply and presumed
“It was always the obscurity,
my purity and your impurity”
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“Deviance?”
The wind screamed,
and his eyes darkly gleamed
“It was my sincere intention, and the one true path,
inviting His immense fury, His infinite wrath”
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“Decadence?”
The sky wept and went suddenly dark,
his smile grew wider, and there was a spark
“It was always the intention,
my love and my obsession”
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I understand all,
I comprehend all,
The agony of love,
misunderstood and rejected
The burden of loyalty,
a soul, broken and dejected
Shehryar khawar 