From Miracles To Misery Poem by Naveed Akram

To harden the miracle of my soul
I start to read the lines of everlasting breath;
I inhale the verses and exhale the virtues,
Breathing my opinions as they arise.
My duty is to know for the sliding man,
Whose deeds are numbered few but
His words seem to decide his fate entirely.
I refute the acts of the begetters of gold,
For the silver encased is the silver displaced.
My courage is within some pebble
Of knowledge, when it bursts and sets fire
To the commanding men, the men of virtue.

To keep virtues we speak to the heart,
Within it mysteries are solved for the
Commands of the Eternal One are most
Cherished and intellectual, for they do not
Cease counting, and rejecting them was
Like eating bronze, hardened metal.
To keep this philosophical maths is a virtue,
One of the emperors shall resist them
But some forsake them, to end with misery.