Insomnia Is At You Poem by Naveed Akram

Insomnia is stuck at your neck of ancient richness,
I am struck by apologies from unique men and women;
I, being the centre of personality and surname, am
Somewhere, the rights of my soul are in your arms.
I am attached by the roots of my hair, echoing of noise
Concerns my friend, whose friendship is in the fire.

Insomnia strikes again, back there, coming from back there,
Finding its home, like a comer of the woods so golden and pure.
The subterranean adventure begins from the bed of reason,
Feel this cord, fallen are they, fallen into the laps of composure,
Like a man whose birth concerns everyone, like a race
To be won by the workers of a lattice and matrix so golden and old.