Sand Around Poem by Naveed Akram

I overflow like a fountain in fantasy,
The story objects to the minor virtues,
But they differ and demand, a route
Pertains to the truth, and we have lace.
To lie and tie the grace systemises
A failed operation.

My sand-holes are preferred to pits,
I convey my soul through the desert,
Turning the tribes in my head, so very
Simple, so very crumpled hats and gear.
The lowering of the head is obtained
By the frequency of thrills too great.