Precious Me

My precious names forgive me,
In the sea of death is a police;
The watery wild begs much misery
To disappear, and concoct a little.
My names are like musical notes
Of the sea and the land and the air.
The praised names convince me
That my fathers and mothers are sound,
Some are here, some of us are then fully present.
My name is my friend for all the times,
The divine songs falter after too many times.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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