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Best Poems Written by Parray Shahid

Below are the all-time best Parray Shahid poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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We'Re All Good, Evil

We are all good 
Are made so
We are all evil
Tho’ we do not know,
‘Tis veiled fantasy
Cloaked between soul and the skin
For a self ignorant
Chasing good and the sin,
Against a triumph that defies us
Denies us a tranquil breath
And lingers upon the morose heads
Like slothful beasts in a mournful wreath,
Thriving for recognition
In a lonesome longevity,
We seek a survival 
Till we are laid to rest
In some heath,
Where the sighs go screaming
Screams fade unheard,
Flattened once, one after another;
Every single plea mouldering away
From a lip that shall not enquire,
An exigency knowing no impunity
Except for a soul that sought
Amidst a burgeoning appetite
Piety, in all the false life
Proved mistaken to seek naught,
But Plentitude!

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Sunset- That Wayside Nook, and the Dying Sun

That wayside beatific nook,
With a crimson seraphic look;
Silhouetted against a dying sun, 
Like dying embers of a satiny run;
Every twig lunging an officious bow,
For a kiss of the pasture lain below;
Hark, the trill of the melodious lark!
Clung to the bevel of the bare bark;
A raised horizon owing to an incumbent brow,
Dwelled by the shades in a nascent grow;
That divulge the affair of that distant west, 
Of the sun avid for a nightlong rest;
And sink to the deepest of the longing horizon,
Unmet, tho’ for an evanescent crest!

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Let It Rain

Let the rain splash incessantly,
And wash away with its flow;
These pangs of sorrow that linger,
Resting upon my brow;
Let it splatter upon the furrowed skin,
And bestrew these lines of grief;
Drenched by the ceaseless bout of tears;
Flared, deepened chasms tho’ brief;
Let it flood the rivulet bellies,
And in their swell, shall sink the trunks;
Unto the level of beveled apices;
Therein swims the dense foliage,
Whereas the flowery beds flare their cleavage,
To gulp and slake a longing thirst;

Let it not surrender to the biffs of the gust,
Let it pour me a life full of lust,
Let it cleanse the haze over my eye,
And indulge me into dreaming;
Daydreaming - Once Again!

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My Desolated Land and I

Centuries are done!
But my land and I exist yet,
Under the visage of desolation, 
Camouflaged by an arrogant power;
Bloody soldier, assassin, executioner
Amending, mastering it;
While I stay in abstract hatred,
Robbed off my cream of youth, 
Whose blood has left no stain;
There, on the blood-saturated land,
And set up, halted in mockery,
I watch the mockery of time prevail; 
While my clamors rise and die,
From waning throats void of charm;
Yet, claiming to breach the walls,
These labyrinthine walls rosy-red!
Painted by the blackened blood of innocence,
Leading a stair of my ancestral stair!
Persecuted by that savage beast,
Still, famished, void is their gut!
And to my rueful disaster,
I slumber!
Cushioned by my half-dead people
Walking in the procession of death;
Towards their safe haven.
But I exist yet, 
Brooding upon my mute calamity;
That brings naught but humiliation,
Before my soul; Crestfallen;
Plagued every day and every night,
By dint of a dawdling tempest,
Lingering upon my lamely eye,
Lamenting upon my beleaguered land,
For my heaven has come to a stroke of doom!

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To My Mourner

Turn not deaf to the stern clamor,
Frozen upon my mourner’s lip;
Whose cry has weakened the desire in me,
Desire to rest in the arms of slumber;
Greeting my open eyes, tired,
For an infinite slumber!
That shall transcend the limits of serenity,
And whisper to me the music of eternity;

Turn not blind to that covetous bosom ,
Holding haplessly to a mocked heart;
And a deluge of despair
Down his pale cheek streaming,
For who shall dry his abrasive skin?
With tears, filling one lipless grin!
And I lay muted in my hallowed bier,
While the fists of oblivion upon my wreath,
Get me acquainted with this calamity in spare
Following the era of my departure;

But to my mourner, I ask
To mourn me not with an apparel of black;
To lament me not with such brooding contrition;
And shed not tears upon my bed;
And chant not of my departure;
Rather look for my closure

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Life

A ceaseless struggle
Deftly weaves us
Into a mess of manipulation.

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Lost

Lost am I 
In the bottlenecks of sorrow
Those hunches about you
Smug an empty tomorrow,

I lock the doors
Yet you appear
Behind those silhouettes 
I tend to disappear,

Burying my head
Deep into the pillows
With a chest soaring
Against the prison of ribs,

Falling apart are my reaches
Seeing you so far away
Trapped between thy clueless snares
As the lofty stares, lead me astray,

Reeling in pain
My heart would submit
But the joy in this agony
Is so compelling within,

Walking in and out are you
Like the blips in my bliss
Leaving me in a dilemma within
Without any hints to miss,

I may not have cried aloud
To question a rejected plea
But the tears have flown away
Like the tides, lost in the sea…

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Death

I am hollow
A bottomless hole
I am no gold-dust
For I am so close,

No truism ought to deny
For all eternity I exist
Dwelling next to every life
For I am so real,

One life could never accomplish
The enormous valor it ought
To vanquish my breath apart
For I am eternal,

I know no betrayal
Neither do I ever forsake
For I combat mortality
For I am immortal,

Clean as dust
I ought to be adored
Waiting eons all my age
For I am no vague,

Collapsing inside from skin to soul
Wresting the latter complete and whole
I bestow thee with tranquil enigma
An esoteric transcending, an undone stigma,

I feed on thee
Thou ought to be weaker
For thou are life 
For I am death…!

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Innocence - Losing Battle Time and Again

My breath has sunken
In this world of slush
With a bunch of hypocrites
Roaming around;

Those wolves of the time
In the jackets of the sheep
Doing things to their will
While we slumber and we sleep;

Where is the human in us?
Where is the conscience?
Ah! Lost the ship again,
That battling innocence;

O human!
Insidious are you
What is it that you live?
A life of regression?
A life of slain?
Lamenting in your solitude;
I’m afraid;
All in vain…!

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The Fallacy of a Dream

There's a lot I could do,
For if my dream was true -
But my dream shuts with the night's shut,
And the fantasy retreats to the nightly gut..!