They are stray and religion is away from them, <br />A path may be meal, a path is a way of a diadem. <br />The religious men sought a sweet air, <br />When did they reach a heavenly tool to be aware <br />Of God? <br />Was this a righteous tool, or a wheel, or was it turbines? <br />To gods it mentally understood why you should pray <br />And why you should die, this was them, with diadem. <br />My path is grand and turning like a war, <br />Fuel of a belief is combusted to make an action of the heart. <br />My religion is grand, I love the queen with the rich-life, <br />She reminds me of the Paradise and what it was to me as well, <br />Like a sound or utterance, reward from godly behaviour; <br />My religion is correct and my life is lovable.<br /><br />Naveed Akram<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/astray-7/
