The Death

I have a death with my name,
I amaze those with sleep and repose;
Your innocence today?
My days are in bereavement
And grief is a complication.
Frenzied with youth, a matter
Has arisen to the life of one:
Happiness of the hair is written
Under the trees of revelry,
For they blow green and naturally
Like the song of natural death.
Laughter times itself when wind
Has arrived, forever in splendour.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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