Annoyance In The Garden
I am distaste, I am the watcher of moons,
Cursing mystical realms is my carefulness.
The macabre noise burdens my soul like the care
I give and create for the purpose of annoyance.
I heave a boulder to the edge of the soil
I call my garden of noise and sounds, all birds.
It is a bewailing sound, siren of strong disaster,
Forming a grief in my heart so strongly that
Vivid images make my life unbearable.
Vapours machinate the resonance of the afternoon,
Burning is the soil from the sound of the noise.
poem by Naveed Akram
Added by Poetry Lover
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