In The Ground We Lie

To roll in the sky died, for offence,
Ghosts of rigid kind define our alacrity.
This ghost charms my menacing instants,
Exemplifying the power of time, as it is space.
Internal terms boil on the mind,
Willing injuries of neglect as forerunners,
Winning hearts and minds of a forgotten past.
My, my joining to the ground carries a mortal
Wound, to see and hear, to watch and feel.
This rolling carries me further than crevices,
Towards the city of light and darkness,
Both aspects spend their wealth.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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