Dangerous Duty

Distant fire supports me faraway,
Itself the fire hideously complains, furrowing
Into earth's core, supplications are due!
Why do heaters of the flesh cry so hotly?
Flowers roam as sophisticated plants
On the gardens of the sky and land,
Jewels make statements about gold.
My duty dangerously deplores hotness,
As my danger is duty, my duty carries danger.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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