My Name That Runs Poem by Naveed Akram

Underneath the sea stands a river of silk and milk that runs,
Opening thoughts of you, the dispute of a month that runs.

I have a maze of worries that tortures the depths of the mind,
Offering me a solution shall be the ocean that is the millionth that runs.

One person is one antagonist, the anatomy of whom excretes blood,
Fetching horrible nightmares like those heroes of the labyrinth that runs.

Let the heavens be attached to the barbarians and soldiers,
One masters them as a battle that rages on as the zillionth that runs.

One will escape the rigours of youth to face a war on the frontline,
Battle systems need generals and wizards of the heavens, the seventh that runs.

I have my name engraved like a stone of weight, the grave so morbid,
One masters my writing as if the relics are as morbid as the trillionth that runs.