Pointing To Them Poem by Naveed Akram

Here was the town hall,
Looking down into the street
Of stars and warlike stories,
Filled libraries, and ponds of life
Puddled and puzzled,
Pointing to them permeated the skin,
Printing haphazardly the rehearsal.

I gathered together wool and bones
Of sheep, to connive the story or spell
That witches observed
Due to the earth of the soil,
The roots of all, and those realities
Stayed further than the rest of life.

Much has been buried by suns
And stars than the streets of music
And gallantry, the books and mountains
Of monasteries.

Here was the town hall, yet again,
Gaining gangs of steel fighters
In the front region, as well as back.