Thrown Poem by Naveed Akram

The stone is in an ocean of gladness,
It cannot converse with our spirit, but we desire
A conversation with the swimmers of the ocean.
Freedom exalts, gems and diamonds excel us,
Without them we are nothing whatsoever,
Just so that we understand, we are all men
With signs to accept.

The stone is thrown across the heart and head,
Shining like the moon, so giant is the welcome
It contains, so much like an archway or entrance
Into the jaws of death, when speaking is not allowed,
Where the pages are read and written, too late
Is the time we are travelling,
Employment has run out.

The stone collides with another one, when the book
Orders your pages to turn like sheets of milk,
The stone talks rapidly, as a stone is certainly
Blessed, but why do words fly away when the reading
Is desired by the few, and the writing is submerged
By the many, may we deliver
The actions of an author and priest.