Ruins are buildings of ripe fruit, <br />Inner souls work finer than heaven. <br />Must not the surety of life bespeak, <br />Must we insure their fear is true? <br />Ruined by the cold and weather <br />The innocence of men is like an adult. <br />Under this sea of hatred lies a golden medallion, <br />Master it for your pleasure to arise, to arise. <br />This gold forsakes underlings, this gold is truth, <br />For less of it stays, less treasure becomes.<br /><br />Naveed Akram<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/finding-treasure/
