Treasure Island

Naveed Akram

(15 December 1973 / London, England)

To The Sight


To the sight say your existence,
To the ears a spongy mass has formed
Devouring the eyes with their glares and tears.
To this plant of woe we abstain the palms
That house the hard heads of the sunrise.
You hold the hands of the one above,
His hands are like the handsome youth,
Face is upturned and resolved like the book
Opening with its pages of supreme patience.

To the sight say your existence,
See those eyes others hold with faces
Upturned like gathering blood from the brooks
That accompany organs of wet tissues and flesh.

To the sight say your existence,
The animals of a stimulated heart
Accost you with polite work
And ask the heart for more solutions.

Submitted: Tuesday, December 10, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, December 10, 2013

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