Compass

Pursue the compass as a companion, likely to emit
What radio we reach as an avenue for the blessing.
Dark hearts converge merrily, worsening the creature,
Cleansing the see-through slippers of thought only.
Offered by me is an accident, only tonight,
To peruse the gladdening is an offence of course.
Many people have ridden on the blasphemy,
Boundless rot will ceremoniously flee and knot.
The compass may be the guide to fortunes and luckiness,
Too forgotten are the directions of north and south.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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