Proud Of Virtue Poem by Naveed Akram

I must be a proud father to lie down next to ghosts,
What shall the highest men say to my folly and vice?

What virtue stings the autocrat in the same vein?
I must be strange to fight in the lines of our weakness.

The ghosts are in this sacred union together with genies,
The wishes of a day are like the wishes of the night.

I may want a direction in my dreamy sleep, altering the phases
Of reunion and pleasure, of companies and societies.

Will wood burn tonight, in the holding of the hand, in this mind?
Kiss the hands of your neighbour when he approaches you.

I will impose order on the community when I am done,
My roar is like the lion and his address to congress or parliament.