And The Lord

My solutions exist for love,
Internal worry has engines,
Yet we break the code of life,
As a man beats his chest.
The sorry experts work and pray,
To deliver the praises
Meant for the right ones.
My solution accepts us,
Just as the problems are there.
Metres of logic hurl themselves
At the deaths and lives.
Must we pray tonight?
Yes, the worries shall desire me
But I shall carry on knowing us
And the Lord.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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