A Wheel
A wheel tortures the side of our legs,
Opening the hated sentences of joy as it speaks;
One invention of our intelligence converts
The spoken value of a fatal clause
And murmurs reality of a far-reaching kind.
The wheel grinds to historical help,
Collapsing under colossal strength of forces
That centre on the brilliant light emitted
From the fortune now in sight,
What is the sight of our sensation?
A guild of thieves wonders at wide prospects
Of the villainy escaping the night,
With wheels to carry, and wheels to mutate
The living genes and their powerful effects
Inside the soul of our life that spins around.
poem by Naveed Akram
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