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
Added by Poetry Lover
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