Blood Flows

Soon my blood is in a stopping way,
It mixes with the air, and a scab forms.
My heart is all right, fine, perfect,
At last, let the heart beat naturally
Like the wheel is turning to make travel.
We soon relax, storm other hearts
And consider this question and many more.
The blood eventually stops, halts in ways,
As the heart of mine is concerning the doctor-
An expert of excellence, a brilliant mind.
The heart is all right, perfect like ice is water,
Much ends here, to talk the heart bleeds love.
The heart is not just love, it concerns our soul,
The spirit of love itself, a reality of greatness.
My blood desists to roam in my veins,
Right now, it does not flow and I may never inhabit the Earth.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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