Naveed Akram

Veteran Poet - 2,875 Points (15 December 1973 / London, England)

The Relic Called Justice


Justice is a dream for the checking of mankind,
Be faithful in your endeavours so entrusted to you;
The deeds of the day survive one in lunacy,
Day after day, night after night.

One is the cash of the century and the ring of fortune,
Singing the blight and songs are ready for singing,
Since the burden of a century is odd and oddest,
The devastation of angers adding together.

Justice swoops low enough to grab with ease,
Funds are released and the old chair taken up
Like the chairmanship of Mao, and the device
Of Stalin, the swearing of an odd, odd principal or head.

This is man in his entirety, lacking nothing,
Losing something, as if swearing was a craft
That shook and released the light and energy;
They were needed today, but I was a mere relic.

Submitted: Sunday, August 03, 2014

Topic of this poem: justice

Form:


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