Naveed Akram (15 December 1973 / London, England)
The Servant Of The Hour
I personally love a prism more than a square,
It glides towards the young habit and lust.
My philosophy states an unique pleasure
Is afoot for the investigation of love so detected.
One adds a foot to the leg, and a reading sign
Accuses one of the fostering of habits.
Attempt the ordinary out of the just nature,
These habits have abraded the clothes
As one fetches a pain of the waters.
To exist with love is to be tonnes of ache
That dwell within the worthy authors.
One person can approve the movement of plans,
One behaves with bookshelves and arrives
With the goods of waves and waters.
The trade of goods is personal love
And they play towards the goals of love.
I have justified my love for the praises,
And my heart sought a solution to the ache
Addressed by these days that long for the right
Creature, the righteous servant of the hour.
Comments about this poem (The Servant Of The Hour by Naveed Akram )
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