Most Of The Wine Poem by Naveed Akram

Most of the wine is drained from the cup of virtue,
I sail to a land where lambs burst from the trees,
And action is a manner of the heart, and the soul.
My argument is severe to the touch and penalty,
Many have abstained from the rainbow of colours,
Much has been jeered at by the onlookers from heights.

The lofty praise is little and relaxed, like lambs bursting,
So may a shepherd reign in this land of fine wine and sign.
The heights are scaled by the lonelier men, who huddle in packs,
To outwear the slain who are slammed inside so fiercely.
My moistness of skin alerts some to the dangers of our times,
From the matters of the heart and stones of men and bones.