Find Satan

Forging a mail has in this world a finder,
A remark so foul that lords and ladies shall arrive.

In that border is a line or a wall,
And evil is the good of this wall.

Why does the Cocoon be strong to crack,
And then Sweden shall award a million?

A book is written of divine beauty,
It carried a solitude of ugly levers.

Hounds of distress are bent towards the stars up above,
Wolves of stone and ice, that dwell among the night.

Their boundaries are now immediate
And their entrails are foul.
Strength is the criminal feed, it is Satan!

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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