In Black Poem by Naveed Akram

Are you not dressed in black?
To mourn or to derive is your purpose,
Your purpose and your purpose.
Wonder at all this!
In this sense, one parts with life
As the living expands, mourning
Completes the circle of circles.

My life is in your hands,
Hands are tall fingers, your feet
Have reasoning, the words flow
Effortlessly as the foot is abased.
In white is dressing, in beauty is
A past, what does live?

If you separate the legs from the
Feet, you approach gates of hard
And brittle graphite always of a
Material of materials.
The circle within the circle slides
So that life becomes a life itself.