Report Of Belief Poem by Naveed Akram

So he lay a very long while,
At once shaken by thoughts of money,
Thick clots of congealed blood
Rushed in to make a guarantee or report,
They were clinging to the hung man.

There was light enough, jumping to the moment,
She went to the sleep, he went to belief,
They wept under the moon this night,
On having trinkets to hide.

I cannot make belief in such mild hearts,
For heartache came with an unbearable fit of shivering,
The loops in life stalely demanded attentions,
Mentalities stemmed from the petals of the moon.