The Tongue Of A Wise Man

He writes like a wise man with his tongue,
Enjoying, striving, briskly walking in honest worlds.
He endures the books called biblical literature,
He must be pastor, but is he one of those?

The wisdom is sacks of gold, the learning tells
Much sense, and the knowledge became heroic to be.
My dear heart hears the rights affixed to the grave
That is to live in by the years, and to exit.

I see angels that master my pains,
They warn me with their questioning,
Beating me with staff and sentence,
I have so wronged the world as I die as a soul.

The wisdom suffered I did not remind,
The learning visited did not reach,
And the heroic play with words was remonstrated
By this situation with angels.

by Naveed Akram

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