My Godly Help Poem by Naveed Akram

My godly helper is about to lose the tower,
Its penalty is losing the beds and pillows.
My servant is my house of worldly work,
His service is adored dearly, like pain.
Many have leapt to their deaths with scares,
Fulfilling the awkward rights of some,
Their heads are helmets of the highest sense.
In this sense, work with morbidity
Now that your best deeds are swollen in the legs.
The service was eternal and fighters betray
Us tonight when the days decide to end.
The deaths are the nights, like nights following
Other nights with stars at their powerful stare.
My godly helper astounds the ends of the earth,
Opening a powerful push to the hollow rocks.