Captain Of My Heart Poem by Naveed Akram

To the captain of my heart I complain as sacred flames,
Below the rise of the sun,
My deeds are done, for we are sublime.
A ship is sailing freely due to frozen wastes,
My deeds worry the word masters, forever.

To that man I jeer and I germinate, I beget a man
Who is always ill, as a sacred flame?
Below the rise, below the phrase, we sting the eyes,
Monkeys spurt foam of hell, so the doing is real.
We are so real, and we complain to the captain.

The sailors are asking prices, worrying themselves,
I am dying according to the phrase, wetting the face,
With tears of need, tears of godly work and weather;
Just as my time at sea exhausts the masters of worlds,
So a regarding leader freezes the ordinary man.