From Ashes To Victory Poem by Naveed Akram

His face is smelling of musk at the same time,
Your building holds the fuel of the sanctuary;
But where is the poet who walks among saints?

The poets are gathered around the fire of their wishes,
Those wishes are these poems, confident and contrived;
My poetry stands tall among the ashes forever told.

Let this fiery man be among the abject and cruel,
Let him fiercely debate on the task at hand in his abode
Called darkness and light, called the best name of age.

Why does the grave act so similar to the beheld territory?
My soul is active that souls are separate and wonderful,
My acts are from the soul and the self is unique this mighty time.