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The Dead Have Awoken
This house madly speaks to the throat of wrong,
Hastening its grasp on the young, a felony has hatched.
This house runs deep to swallow for the pen
To write a fortune of darkness, of sheer desire.
Then the miserable doors creak open, creak loudly,
For the small are penetrating, these mice squeak like soldiers.
The rats have risen from the dead, the dead are just not only Undead
But steep as a mountain, in many garments.
The Undead have occurred today and not tomorrow,
For I have cleared the way for the strong and brave,
I succumb to the realities of the unseen
As the sun has fallen into my lap.
poem
by
Naveed Akram
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