Woven Poem by Naveed Akram

Hands are woven into the silk of desire,
Fires are woven into the hells of abuse;
Each hell is each shoulder to drive a wedge,
Expanding the skulls with worse pain.

A grand new beginning unfurls like gel,
This death demands a reply, this is the death.
Who understands? When do they differ?
The different and pernicious congratulate me.

Legs and feet are woven into practice,
Standing to the whole of a majestic spring,
Some time a world will collapse due to orders
From within, the winnowing of illness begins.