A Collective Grave Poem by Muhammad Shanazar

Now destiny does not give a chance
To fathers and brothers, husband and son
To wail and weep over each funeral;
Good times have passed away
When catafalques were shouldered;
The verses were recited aloud
From home to the grave yard,
And prayers for redemption were said,
Now the dead are shattered into shards,
They bathe in the their own burnt blood,
The unknown kids, the young and old
And women lay sans coffins,
They are dragged and consigned to a trench,
The earth moving gadget comes to fill,
So a collective grave is made in the vault.

Written By Dr. Anwaar Ahmed Ejaz
Translated by Muhammad Shanazar