Phase Of Praise Poem by Naveed Akram

The world has a phase
We call the feeling of lists
And bold names, featuring art
And deaths, and old items.
The world collects me as I travel
To the outer shirts, a wearing
Of the adoration we find in
Fidelity suiting praise.

The world is a praiseworthy grassland,
Fences are sold to the highest bidder,
Whose sins are catastrophic, for the grass
Dims, delivers the spores of joyous size.
A fever erupts, delving into fires,
The world is in a phase of worth.