Bless The Horse Poem by Naveed Akram

I spiritually bless you from far thoughts,
My poetry entraps the infirm and ready;
I bless your divinity when cool acts
Sing along and state the belongings.

I was a carpenter and builder of states,
In them were buttons and talking ills;
These ills muttered, thwarting your dress
And the manners came next to relieve you.

I bettered the souls of the magicians,
My lectures sufficed sadly, and sadness
Became a dozing sleep, a slumber
Of extremity, as extreme as the alacrity.

I bless those who fix their vision on life
That celebrates martyrdom, those martyrs
Speak to the heavenly heights, and their
Steeds gallop and then close in behind.

My action is my horse, galloping and cantering,
Like a true animal of worth, endangered by
The scene and the heart of the hearer,
Who hears all the finery and the chivalry.

Let my horses run battles in the blindness
Of fields of hay and crops designed to dry.
Why do we canter then jump accosting nobody?
Where do we sign the soldier of horses?