The Habits
I still keep to my habits
As much as possible;
I have promised my followers
To gain the paradise.
Then dying was a thirst
As I slid into the dry zone.
My bass roar resembled the river
As it rushed forcibly, inwardly.
I only sound like music
More like wind instruments.
The brown slop of the river
Is of clay, the very constituent
Of man and woman and child.
My habits reimburse us
As we copy my example
Of loveliness and happiness.
poem by Naveed Akram
Added by Poetry Lover
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