To Fight A Lazy Man Poem by Naveed Akram

To fight a lazy man, who is fatigued by illness,
Causes us to decide gratitude as fast as vastness.
Howl! Pills comb our hair, forever the light is dimming,
Fine are the faces, for the faces are howling, screaming.

The illness of hearts makes marking a sacred idea,
Ideas fell on me, my dangerous foe, forming me,
Howl those Januaries, toward the city of kind misses,
My illness is sacred, it poses worms, itself the daily foe.

New buildings scare a bullet from falling, falling,
Like barrages bloated, offering sanctuary, with foes,
Whose fowl are winged? What voice screams searingly?
The building buds with boiling stride, screaming settlement.