Naveed Akram (15 December 1973 / London, England)

Their hands joined as faces turned,
Thinking up a reason to marry
And clasp the eternal goal,
Forwards to go and march.

Thinking so, their faces burned
With heat from the senses,
As eyes swam and met with precision,
They were barely capable.

Their wasting of the hips was great,
Honey and bees never came into existence,
Further was mostly the disease,
From their beds a nature had arisen.