The Beat Of The Brain Poem by Naveed Akram

The swift beat of the brain
Suffers no pain in its surprise;
The soul feels a dried pen of ink
When calamity befalls a flying leaf.

The swift writers are a goodly thing,
However much their cloth and sloth
That speeds up across the ages
Much loved by the fearful ones.

The clocks have been in their tower
For so long, and patted me on
The back with their cellos and pianos
Of joyous music that we enjoy.

The brains of the men who fought
Lack virtues, and somewhere
There is a retreat of heavenly surprise
That lengthens and manages.