Prophecy Poem by Akhtar Jawad

The voice you listen to from,
the discipline you find from,
and the words you read from,
not from the men in picture.
They're moons of their times,
the radiations they received from the sun,
having absorbed all its radioactive heats,
having crucified their body in their souls,
and being turned in milky moonlights,
when earth was dark in moonless nights,
they're showered on the earth,
give them any of the beautiful names,
they're the best souls of their times,
nature speaks through the sun and the moon,
nature smiles though the twinkling stars,
it's feet is seen on the Milky Way,
it's heart may be seen in love
and reproduction of life,
but where is it's brain,
no body knows and nobody will know!