Miles away from Margalla hills
so many eyes moistened the air.
A tear drop, a silent prayer,
the mutual grief etched on hearts!
A mother wept
at the thought of your mother
A child cried
as he saw your blood
The healer who made futile attempts
to save your life. .
lowered his head and heaved a sigh!
Did not death just see your face?
your perfect life, your intellect.
was that not so hard to miss?
those gleamy eyes and soaring aims!
you had it all what takes to ace
the things you did, what you went through
you had it well, you did your best.
O ‘ Holy Death!
Your cruel Hath. . .
It took the lives of rare gems.
And air is laden with sniffled shrieks.
your death is mourned
by kith and kin. .
and those too who hardly know
how lovable were thee indeed!
With millions bereaved at your loss,
I do believe
You are the blessed
you really are!
and you will have,
the life post death. .
of which the sages dream,
the scripts deem
and the folks beam!
Rest in peace
O’ loved ones!
O’ blessed ones!