Hand Of A She-Devil Poem by Naveed Akram

I saw her hand of the devil's brew,
I saw her head with ruination of steam,
The water evaporated to let in glued bodies
So that sweat was a past affair.

My life is gaining a beverage of leaves,
Opening the food of the parlours,
Indeed the laws of a quick fox confide
In your soul and its essence of righteousness.

My hands are of her brew and blindness,
The she-devil's sting reminds me of your height,
But she was the height of a titan
In dresses rose-red and paranormal.

Why does she investigate in sinews?
When does ghoul be stronger than illness?
My devils are laudable when strong and robust,
Like the infinite plains of existence in planets.