Gibberish

This gibberish winces in me,
Tying knots is all I have to do.
Confidential work has appeared
And my work is solid as silver.
The imp or sprite responsible for
Extinguishing my work is absent.
A macabre noise inside builds,
Much may happen fast without us.
The wincing is painful and often,
A conspicuous man or demon
So that of a sprite shall appear one day.
A monarchal work has crazed him,
The king was absent from the imp
When the imp laid in his shelter.
The gibberish has been shelved
By the librarians of noise, always horrific.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!