Curses Of Much Poem by Naveed Akram

I hope a terrible growl was one condition
Of the human body and all its parts;
Of the steaming coffee a little cream was worming
Its way to the drugs and curses.
A terrible laugh and curse was a deviant act,
Some fruit of the theft was in order of danger,
My laying down was of tears, my anything is yours,
Like the thanks of worry and the thinking of sainthood.

Much I spare of you with one condition,
Beauty is to forgive me,
Beauty must be beneficent like godly work,
Dropping jaws will be beneficial.

Shout for your troubled priest,
And remember to kill the condition
As a monument parades an artwork,
Little as the little, much as the much.