Faith In Me Poem by Naveed Akram

Faithful believer,
My fame is at an end,
Yet I play along the circles
That are concentric.
Faithful lover of the west
And east,
Why does horizon and friend
Be distinct tonight in this
Setting sun?
Lulling the sense,
When do circular roadways
Fade into the holiday?
My fame is at an end,
For fixing the time is deadly
In the season of your fold.

May tonight be the tall lever.
Pull it to reach salvation sweet,
The sweetness is oblong
For the sucrose is damning.
Why do circles mutter their
Praises on the bed?
The fructose is especially
Concentrated to be offending.
It is sweeter than the face
Of people who dine on the tales.