Kings Of Slavery

Return to the ancient time of pain and suffering,
Slavery was the illness, so much accumulating.
We aborted our endeavours forever in this way,
Then our mornings and evenings seemed to say.
That may quieten the many who joined the slaughter,
The next day contained the war, from a daughter -
A princess of worth, the very satellite of the palace,
Making scares always like someone callous.
This time of pain went by, and disappeared,
It was the father, the king, who domineered.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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