A Few Bad People

A few Bad People
Spoil joy with a gust of violent wind.
They haunt the world with the riddle
And exploit their dark swirling mind.

A few Bad People
Grind active souls with raw power,
Charm the world with unseen cable
And shrinks honesty with awful roar.

A few Bad People
Convert fertile terrain into barren.
Through a frozen wand of cripple
Spoil the remaining few Good men.

poem by Osman Gani
Added by Poetry Lover
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Every Heart Will Love

Every heart will love.
Soaked with salty tear,
Gripped with faulty fear,
Every heart will love.

Every heart will love.
Living in mortal cage,
Giving in mental rage,
Every heart will love.

Every heart will love.
Blinded by loving arrow,
Guided by shoving morrow,
Every heart will love.

Every heart will love.
Tearing flesh of Hate,
Bearing pains of Fate,
Every heart will love.

[...] Read more

poem by Osman Gani
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The Fragrance Of Virtue Rises To The Heavens

The blissful flower landed on the earthly dirt
And rooted its seeds on the bosom of mankind.
The flower blooms only in fruitful pure heart
Which grazes its petals like one hungry hind.

Virtues are the atoms of God, the holiest one.
The more we attain it, the more we appear near
To Him, His being, Virtues and godliness anon
As our soul drenches with immortal holy tear.

The earthy flower blooms, dies in perched air
With a fragrance that melts, melts, melts away.
But the fragrant flower of Virtue is always fair,
Its fragrance rises towards heavenly stairway.

poem by Osman Gani
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The Super-Moon

The astronomers, common people, kids are gazing
At the Super-moon that has appeared in the sky.
The super-moon is so big, so bright, so charming
That the bystanders cannot even blink their eye.

Next day, the burning furnace of the Sun will burn
The shimmering of Super-moon with its warmth.
What will change tomorrow? Will the waves turn?
Will fate of the poor change? Can death be birth?

The poor who sleep at rough footpaths of the city
Were sleeping starved in the chilly moonlit night.
They had nothing to do with the moon's luminosity,
If the moon were bread they could eat it with delight.

poem by Osman Gani
Added by Poetry Lover
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