Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
Sweet Odours Of A New Palace
For a few minutes we pack for the journey named no more
By our successes, and life revolves around violas and violins.
The musicians have a stigma, the revolutionists cause mayhem
In their dozens of parlours, when secret script delivers its ridicule.
I have hours of misfortune inside my soul that has letters and food
Handfed by serial killers and I am now aghast at the burgeoning mayors.
The cities bespoke a merciful message that pursued logic after logic,
Only from economies that ran anew, from the devastations of slayers.
Inside the committee a new palace diverged into our minds that spoke on the topic,
For the mirrors kicked our bellies afterwards, from too much darkness and energy.
A wave is not a suitable partner for another wave, for swinging among the geography
Creates a six-day religion of created beings who surpass the men in the supreme quarters.
For a booth contains a hue that awoke for us to keep our tunics and shields,
To fight with a sweet odour, as the cavalry of the life we lead has passed us by.
poem
by
Naveed Akram
solid border
dashed border
dotted border
double border
groove border
ridge border
inset border
outset border
no border
blue
green
red
purple
cyan
gold
silver
black