Birth Of Death Poem by Naveed Akram

The birth of the bishop was dying like the dye of red health,
His elements of fidelity struck us dimmer than news of mortuaries.
Embedded in the hearts of devolved spirits, one crane and one builder
Rectified the conditions of the many folded documents,
The wills and the winds of the soldiers were stormed by the bullets.

The cerebrums of generals had taken their gates,
Manors as casual as wishes were slaughtered in mild taste,
Yet the flat manner of the evictors was spreading thin
Licking the fowls from supreme heat that sacked the bruised arts.
An elm tree founded a nation of elm trees for the documents believed.