Noosed

A draping rope is attached to my skull,
Inside is the whole realm of a wrong.
It is explanatory, selfish of me to deny,
That the noose is eloquent in talking.
It is a rope or hanging thread, forcing me weak
As torture eloquently states the principle.
My ropes are angry, geese are above
Who are like the springs of heaven.
A man is visiting me with stupor,
Calling me a stupid man who sweats and rains
Down with the water of the body.
My sun quakes in the direction of travel,
My moon is yet to arrive, like philosophy I read
And conversed with my pupils, the very sort.
Next is the death, a pile of ash and a death,
Working towards heaven or hell as the reason
Of a soul, the soul that wants itself.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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