The Bullet Of The Masses Poem by Naveed Akram

To feel the bullet of wine is to forsake the entities,
To wear the flesh of an imperfect animal is destroying it,
As reasoning is less every day and every year.

My rifle is locked, now that your soul has disappeared,
The target is dragged on, the solution whistles past,
I have to condemn a soul for living as the bullet of wine.

If souls end, their disgrace is in sight, feeding the masses
Tomorrow and today and yesterday, feeling the forces of signs,
Defending the region of the whole heart, an expanse of perfection.

In the sacks of gold, there are solutions for all who live under the sky,
A gun relaxes, a myriad of voices enter the heart, as a bedazzled public
Respond to the call of fools and liars, righteous and pious, cold and warm.