Let Beautiful Death Poem by Naveed Akram

Let it first part, then death will retaliate,
Lamps of the beautiful place are like little ones.

Letters of touch last forever, they plunge into fire,
Hold the map up and study it by firelight to see.

Death comes brilliantly like this fireplace and seat,
Translates a love story into song, a poem into pleasure.

If forced, death arrives at the gatehouse, feeling with anthers
The rigours of death, and the antlers of danger.

Letters first drown us in the river, with word after word,
To be suitable to politicians and statesmen, who bedevil me.

I have a devil in me when my mind is made up,
The hands stay awake after the cherishing and sustaining.