The Reduced Wars Poem by Naveed Akram

Behold the men centred in oblivion,
Be their faces offering pain of soothing;
The choking of the damned is escaping,
A cold happening causes the faults.

My elephants roam like monsters,
In the centre of oblivion, the hose of wrong.
My drums beat with potatoes in the mouth,
Hot food is in my belly, prisons must fail.

The school of never-never-land quakes due
To the prison of our intelligence,
Our drums beat mightily on this authority,
My ship is sinking dutifully as a business.

For the monsters are against my elephants,
The ships grow worse as the ghost-ships,
Lurking in some of the sour waters,
Reducing the wars and increasing the misery.