Gifts From Men

Gifts of men are framed on the wall,
In there is pride and sand and snow.
Why do celestial beings approach us when asleep
And form a coalition with themselves.
We have now crossed the great divide
And bled a normal life,
When do the deities atop refuse our animation?
Why are the bestowals?
We are apoplectic, disgraced by friendships
As much as Hell is on this ground.
Gifts to these idols are not gainful,
For it is manifest.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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