Rebuked

If you denounce my spirit,
The spirit within is so pure
That purity will never be perverted.
Openly, the living miracle has been achieved
Towards the end of the string we finish.
My weapons target a man of worth,
Denouncing and rebuking the spirit walking.
May rhythm of skill be resulting
From this awesome quake, so vivid
And disastrous, after the work of Hell.

My spirit is pure and clean
From the knowledge attained
In youth and in old age.
Living with the miracle
Carries no blunder or race of unkindness.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!