Saint Peter Is Shy Poem by Mahya Kamalvand

I am all surprised by the choice of right,
That you are using to cover your lies
And the world is all in the face of sight
That the devil's vision permits the eyes

To see it, the gloomy shadows
Of the upper heaven in the sky
And some to call it the nightglows
Are nothing of saint peter's shy

Major screams, Merlin saddles
They are off to parking sides
The big brains of the addle
And god, himself is pride

This tragedy, more of a comic
Like the world of mussed bitches
Two-headed range, a forking topic
Of the big-bang dizzy retches

Shiver my palms, killing my dooms
And you are still lying
World of unsaint rounding up the glooms
The immortals in it dying!