A son's plea
When you trembled all over,
when your features weaned,
when your skin ruptured,
When your pillars gave up,
when the roofs fell down,
misery struck,
destruction knew no bound.
When your houses collapsed,
when your children so many of them,
lost life or parents,
all dreams in a moment drowned.
When your sons perished,
when your daughters were buried,
when death or despair,
knew no city nor town.
When where once there was life,there was no sound,
when hospitals became morgues,
schools levelled to the ground.
Forgive me mother,
forgive your son,
for when you needed me most,
I could not be around.
when your features weaned,
when your skin ruptured,
when all rushed down.
When your pillars gave up,
when the roofs fell down,
misery struck,
destruction knew no bound.
When your houses collapsed,
when your children so many of them,
lost life or parents,
all dreams in a moment drowned.
When your sons perished,
when your daughters were buried,
when death or despair,
knew no city nor town.
When where once there was life,
when hospitals became morgues,
schools levelled to the ground.
Forgive me mother,
forgive your son,
for when you needed me most,
I could not be around.
posted by Omer at 11:17 AM
2 Comments:
I confess that poetry has never been something I have been proud of. Not even proud of understanding! This was just a reaction. I believe if you're sad its easier to express poetically as opposed to prose.
Beautiful for an ode to this calamity is not something id say. But this is touching.
Prayers for mercy and urgent help from Allah.
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