Price Of Craft Poem by Naveed Akram

What is the price of Craft? Is there anything compared to skill?
Or does the song singer beam with gladness and sadness
Instead of sheer love for the acts of an expert?
The withered trees are turned into long planks of wood
So lovely to the eyes of redness and sawdust.
But in for the world, we see the love of the trained one,
Lonely as a heart can be, lovely as the tainted flower
Adored by the springing of it in the rich plain.
Some can flourish like the ploughing of the ploughman,
He is conscious of how much bread spins from a pursuit
In vain. There is shattered bone, with slaughtered friends;
One spends on gold and silver, like the endings of golden
Men, whose death abstains from life so enriching.