Why does my stay be staring at this red fountain?
by Naveed Akram
I grin, but do not discern the special colours;
Cascading joyous light emits through the gushing water,
Rushing, like the illness of a fever that burdens the joy.
From far away I see red fountains; watching the deluge
Is like opening faculties of music, then concerts abound
With hues dimming as the notes of sound are mixed,
Feeling the fountain of blood that swears to insults.