My Time With Death

My time with death is so good
That sacrifices are made for good.
The other fiend is not deathly
But too worthless.
His time is nearer to death
And he hurts from the time dragged forth.
We see time with this crazy reasonable fiend,
Inside them are hatreds to find,
You must learn the bombs and bullets,
With a concern not to desert.
So much suffering is bowed to
That differences collect and you triumph.
Goodness of time is always called Life,
The Dead do not worry, the Dead are fully aware.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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