Light At Play

I am an object of light and the button,
You have some idea why I am richer than you!
You rest and play as the meanings of your page
At a way called wind.
Adorations are sweetness for the soul
As this closed book shows.
Perseverance and calamity show the mind at work.
When only light appears you are objecting
Like the wind of the weather, and the storm.
Then, so deluded, a night has arrived
For roofs are like them as they give comfort.
I am an object of light so ridiculed
For my comfort, and let us win this reality.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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