Naveed Akram

(15 December 1973 / London, England)

Desire Is A Service

My desire is too fragile,
The passing of passages is forced
So that living poses the ultimate
Thought, whether my movement
Is fierce or swift or light.
My desire is too fragile,
The systems of our recollection
Despise the fiends that perpetrate
Madness and strongly uncivilised
My desires become that of lust,
As happiness sets in with those
Ending in their sorrows.
A fiddled man is like a sorry man,
But an apple is munched by those
In danger, and the fair men
Seem like fairies, for they are just them.
A mirror is shown how fair it is,
A man is a mystery to the woman
That serves the houses of law,
But the mysterious one hides in the woods,
And it sees all the splendour
To come back to once it spends

Submitted: Tuesday, January 07, 2014
Edited: Wednesday, January 08, 2014
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