The Black Sea

In the term of office we call the presents of festivals,
The black sea is offended by the great sea,
As of this moment it is angered from above,
It is the black problem we are against.

Fulfilling satisfaction has taken a nuisance
By telling tales of the black ocean with its blue,
And we more than one know swimmers of scent
And merciful are the boats on the surface.

The blood is tidy, we are intelligent,
As much as gold mixed with diamond,
Like the black ocean and blue sea,
As hard as the concrete of shelter.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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