Mad Wells Poem by Naveed Akram

The well of madness drifts into the sighing zone,
Where a heart deserts another market of deceit;
The aliens of dedicated murder are upon us,
Just like the pack of wolves arriving in the dark,
Forsaking all light that is delivered by the verses.

The well of mad health is ironic and deceitful,
Killing the main diamond mine of this futile century;
Keeping it, we dissolve in the solvents of minds,
Like being a solution that drifts, maddening us
Beyond the furthest reaches of the day and night.

The wheeling fortunate events are stigmas of days
That speak of nights as their comrades, like the love
Shared by a husband and wife; families have maidens
So bright, daughters of the earth, and sons of wealth,
This offspring is sacred to the welfare of the zone we desire.