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The Devil Went Down To Pakistan I wrote this poem and i wanted to share it , its called the Devil went down to Pakistan , the title is inspired from Primus and some parts of the poem from south park

The devil went down to Pakistan
And decided he is gonna stay,
Never in modern times he had seen
So many idiots astray,
Bombs flying, people dying
All the rest do is pray
Children crying , politicians lying
So much pollution , sky is grey.

Playing poker on the side of the road
He saw a young man,
Wearing a hat, sunglasses
Black T-shirt and blue pants.

His name was Khan
They called him The Pathan
Tall , handsome, fearless, lively
There wasnt another like him in Pakistan.

The devil thought to himself I need a soul to steal
This young man seems lost, I should make a deal.

Listen! Young man
How would you like to place a bet with me?
I happen to be very good at this game
Pride is my name
And If you win, in return
Ill give you women , money and fame.

Looking at the devil , an old man wearing a vest
Replied young man , saying goodbye to his guests
It might be a sin, but Ill take your bet
And in the end you will regret cause I am the best .

Lets take a walk first ,said Khan, I got things to do
Buy my little sister , some paper , pen and glue

They saw crossing the street , an old man that was blind
He helped him cross the road, the young man was kind.

The devil rolled his eyes, turning around his head
what good will that do , this place is already dead

Replied khan smiling I know this place is bleak
But I can go to sleep at night by helping poor and weak

Ok ok but now , shall we play the game?
If you win I will fulfill your love of lust and fame.

Ok but first, said Khan Im hungry , we shall eat
Sat down in a restaurant he ordered beans and meat.
Saab! Im hungry, I havent eaten in days said a beggar
My legs are shaky , face turning blue.
Here. Take my food Khan said,
For now this is the best that I can do .

He heard the screams of a woman in the dark,
Sitting in grass, with a baby in the park.
I am poor , I am homeless, my baby is sick too,
Take my money, and go to the hospital said Khan,
For now this is the best that I can do .

Asks the devil ( furious) now should we play the game,
As I said if you win , Ill give you money and fame.

Yes, but first,
The hour is upon us , my friend is calling me,
And he would appreciate it if you would join me.
We have to go to his house, the entry is free,
Right along that red brick wall , besides the big old tree.

.The most Gracious The most Merciful
Is what the Devil read at the door
The boy brought me to a mosque , he thought
His mind went numb, he couldnt think more.

How could Ive mistaken , the boy seemed right
Shaved, smoking, poker , he looks the bad type.

Whats wrong? asks Khan turning
We have to hurry , its time for yearning.
I shall not enter or I shall regret
You go and pray, says the Devil
Time for me to move ahead.
I take back my bet, I was wrong all along
In this dirty lake , you are like a swan
Its people like you who make my work hard
Kindness is your shield and I cant break that guard.

The Devil does not enter the house of Pure
His feet will burn , his heart will cure said Khan,
I knew it was you all along
Your eyes gave you away
The birds stopped singing at your arrival
The stars turned grey.
You are lucky you dont wanna play
Cause you were to lose I must say
I was gonna bet you to go back to hell
And take with you all that are stray.

I will go but again I will try, said the Devil
Always manipulate, make everyone cry.
Take them into the fire
For this world is most desire
But as the Lord promised
He will always have some saved in the shire.

you go to hell and dont forget
Khan is my name
There is nothing you have to offer me
I dont care for money and fame.
So far I am winning
life is the game
And remember you son of a bitch
I am one of the best there has been!!!! comedy humour
25 May 2010 | 1237 Feronso Says:   
Urdu poetry (Urdu: Urdu Shayari) is a rich tradition of poetry and has many different colours & types. It has generated its root from Arabic and mainly from Persian and is an important part of Pakistani culture. In India, it has integrated well within the culture of the Muslim masses.

Like other languages, the history of Urdu Poetry does not have a firm starting point and shares origins and influences with other linguistic traditions within the Urdu-Hindi-Hindustani mix. Literary figures as far back as Kabir (1440 - 1518) and even Amir Khusro (1253-1325 AD) deserve mention as influences later Urdu poets draw on for inspiration as well as intellectual and linguistic sources. Meer, Dard, Ghalib, Anis, Dabeer, Iqbal, Zauk, Faiz and Qabil Ajmeri are among the greatest poets of Urdu. The tradition is centered in the subcontinent. Following the Partition of India in 1947, it found major poets and scholars residing primarily in modern Pakistan. Mushairas (or poetic expositions) are today held in almost every major metropolitan area in the world. Over this period, Urdu poets have produced a large number of primarily poetic works.
15 Aug 2010 | 1347 Haider Ali Says:   
I like this poem and thought of sharing with others.

A Spiritual Exercise
Col. Syed Nawab Alam Barhvi

It may look strange to you, to me
But fasting as ordered, is not in vain
For body its gloom, for soul its glee
A message for heart, a lesson for brain
It pains the body to expand the soul
To see that you in probity-n-piety
Are thrifty for self and generous in dole
Its total submission to God Almighty
Fasting is winning the love of God
By loving His men of all the creeds
But mere starving; if it doesnt prod
Your souls to cleanse your thoughts and deeds
Its patience, tolerance, its really great
To honestly feel the hunger and need
Of those, miserable, poor, desperate
And raise their living and clothe em and feed
Fasting is a practice in faith; a drill
To plunge into self and discover your sin
And mend your ways; youve time still
For overhaul spiritual, and ordeal within