Beds of Suffering

We die in the beds of suffering,
Humoured by the balances of pain,
Collecting the knowledge of knowing hurt,
Contriving a blessed and divine method,
Trying the effective and lovable design of love
That hides a joyous song in the mental agony.

We die for the longing of hurt and destruction,
Where is the plane of existence limiting our hurt and worry?
So that a hurling question can be solved:
Why are there mysteries in the hatred of pain
When evil spirits could collect themselves against us
And overthrow us. Their power shall overcome us
If we are in suffering. Thus, the pain is shaped around
Goodness.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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