Solid Tree Poem by Naveed Akram

A solid construction is paler than a modern one,
It worsens down to its roots like a diseased tree,
The face it wears compares to the whole face,
Its counting of the leaves makes a construction.
Bricks have bonded, mergers have been seen,
Down to the skin of the soldier who obliges inwardly,
As the throat barges a wrong gesture of slight hardness.
One constructed the faults of a strong disease,
Uplifting the sadness, then so much sadness occurred
Like the towers of the dark lands, or the land of seven
Reasons, the land called fairyland, that wears a face.