To Our Souls Poem by Naveed Akram

This difficult conjuring trick faces me,
Like the goons of the whole innocent prison,
A fate lies in wait for the older region,
Killers are abiding in pleasant news
Of the rooms they inhabit.
Much was traversed in smaller faces,
Resins and tricks could be felt
Lining the walls of a sanctuary,
The success laid eggs that flourished
With excellent furniture,
The children of the fixed were living
With special health, as healing
Became a matter of importance.

The starchy tape was a piece of bread
That could be played within the stomach,
Returning each stare and receiving a glare
Most worried, most specialised, and more played.
The bread of the whole district seemed
Fair and wide, like the hazards of the realm
Open to us all who stare and wear the clothing
Given to our souls.