To The Copse
Return to the copse withering like green flowers,
Staying remains the locality, the flowers of seeds.
A blushing blinding pain subjugates to the excess,
Oily flesh ruptures reverently and blisters remake themselves.
A dead body has remained for a long time,
Features are like cracks fully intimidating to the local flesh
Of bodies passing by the copse of greenery and flowers.
Cracking over them are flies too hard to find elsewhere,
Lulling them means paying the penalty of death,
For you die when observing the dead, the plain dead
Of the copse, the corpse to fly never from this locality.
poem by Naveed Akram
Added by Poetry Lover
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