Meditation

In the meditation room, a top man sways,
His thoughts relayed throughout the galaxy;
Delighted in some swaying piracy,
Innocently the sentence unwinds to see rivers.
In the meditated hour, it begins to suggest a controversy,
For a man resolutely abandons his task.
Underneath the sea is a bed of iron,
Steel has been thought as a hard strain,
Toughness is assault, a ready session of hate.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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