Scourge Poem by Naveed Akram

A scourge causes death to open enemies,
How hard are those who whip and punish severely?
A threat cascades into the death of a man of blasphemies,
His throat hurts from exertions and everything nearly.

The misery of life is clearly made by those in-charge,
A scourge politely masters us in full daylight;
Sincere reflections are received and then enlarge
To accumulate and enter, and also create a bite.

You must not act when the paradigm fixes,
Think over this standard example so named,
An arrangement of sense and butter mixes
To complete the sauce so flamed and famed.

I agree with some secrets, in the conversation,
They echo in the scourge once delighted in,
Fixing and mixing like top secrets with abbreviation,
Echoing and finding new tours herein.