Musty fumes belch out
of Kabul’s downtown sprawling mass
of rambling rickshaws, tooting Toyotas,
trotting horse drawn carts,
heaving and straining
with the weight of rotting carcasses
and the salvaged wreckages of time.
Freedom
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Category Archives: Political
Suffering
by Novid Shaid, 2006
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The screaming of my child,
As she dies of hunger and thirst,
Has destroyed my taste for life
And stuffed me full of emptiness.
The Man Who Loved To Burn The Book
Novid Shaid, September, 2010
Once there was a man, who yearned to burn a book,
which millions loved; it was their special book,
its verses had some of them completely hooked;
they were delighted by just a momentary look.
.
The Fallen
A warm shower of dignified applause
Echoes down the winding road,
As hearses bearing the fallen one,
Glide through, leaving copious tears
And stoic faces in their wake.