New Reading Poem by Naveed Akram

My shores are dead, for my lands are new and read,
By the dying gangs of this plain that expands, new and read.

Fires fail and spread due to cold hearers and cold faces,
My forefathers shouted to the demands, new and read.

When millions of pounds glistened in full blood to new generals,
We saw a bloody scene in the wars in hands, new and read.

My hands are severed by swords as the biting has stopped,
Many already burn the scaffolding along the commands, new and read.

I have to be the conquest and the sin of a day and night that wins,
My conqueror will burst into grand handstands, new and read.

Some search is given, donated by the fiery sands of the deserts,
I am a nomad told to sever the hands called my forehands, new to read.