Naveed Akram (15 December 1973 / London, England)
Some star grabs the token first,
Leaving me in haste and darkness.
The spreading wings of an age of vigour
Have made the flight possible.
It creates a rocket and mobilises the being
For a time and tune that lasts forever.
The wings dissolve once this time,
By no means do flyers ever escape.
The galaxies, madly in love of you,
Create a feeling entertaining the people
Who stop and stare to see many sights
That glare at them, as a fortune desires.
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