Hours Of War Poem by Naveed Akram

The hours are sunless, hooking onto light when night,
Little moons are bigger philosophies of the soul at night.
I think the protector is on my brainy acumen and zeal,
Steering my vehicle for me in the life of the deathly wake.
The untouched men are outcasts of the significant war,
They must knead the bodies of older men who have been slain.

The hours are moonless, it is night and cold due to the sunlight
Arriving and approaching the soul of nightmares and dreams.
I think the predators are loose, like a lightning bolt to grab coils,
I saw a wolf of the midnight, and it whimpered due to duty of war.
This is an animal untouched by the human race, like a body slain,
By the opposition and the oppressor, by the persecutors and foes.