Centre Of The Clock Poem by Naveed Akram

I called from a point running out of time,
The point in time had receded,
Boundaries were betrayed and won,
Selfishness and closeness to the devil
Had won.

I called from a district by the river,
Letting the avenues mutter,
Feeding the banks with absence of flies,
Religion had arrived and shaken
The foundations.

A reality had been my clock,
The mighty clock ticked with gongs,
This winning easy way saw agreeable manners
Of the kind men who struck
The centre.