Folklore Poem by Naveed Akram

The stories that abide in the folklore
Are literate for their ideals and realism;
Those lessons are pages, those mediums
Constrain the song, and the eventual decline
Has been of people in sin.

My cast is my hope, as it swears to the clouds
Of mist, and the clouds of despair,
That tricks of the infirm are about us
With full professions and confessions.

My joystick has been touched by the children
Of hope, the feelings of the heart can outstandingly
Discuss the beginnings of this created apartment.
My heart is joy, my hearts are many to be exact,
Killing me with the distance of a globe and planet.

I want the return to heart-sinking reality,
An island of restoration has gained speed
For the seas surrounding it gape at gales
The wearing of which is sacred.
At an argument the wearing of the crown
Is for the island.