Virtuous Youth Poem by Naveed Akram

Going to the flowers of virtue
Overshadows the other half;
On this side of the face is strength,
I sway my arguments so well.
Going to the death-place is
Knocking on the door of youth
And seeing a tooth slide down.
So go to the flowers of youth,
A prime move is melting and boiling.

The virtuous man entered the
Cemetery, living his best when hurt
By love so overshadowing, like ice.
The places of the existent are like
White light shining brighter than most.
This cemetery is blessed by divine
Light, entering the jaws of men.
I sing along the times of my youth,
It mends the sway of my entire life.