An Elegy To The Departed Hope (At The Death Of Arfa Karim) Poem by Raja Nosherwan

Did far from our selves chesty then-
the bias fate arise,
such wings had seen no soul or men,
did thorns and barbs comprise;
disguise, disguise, disguise!

This demon bore a mournful face,
reflection of our deeds,
a question to a questioned race-
sorrow which figure breads;
proceeds, proceeds, proceeds!

While over the lands it did fly
it found no prudent bone,
until she met its wistful eye-
the brightest mind that shone;
alone, alone, alone!

A siren so his dive did sound,
while barbs did rot the air,
its restless feet a tremor pound,
and sight a restless stare;
unfair, unfair, unfair!

Their hollow faiths all men did bring-
departed prayers and spite,
all arms were just the songs to sing
no beams of holy light.
Oh fright! A fright, a fright!

Wraith now did bodiless belong,
it shot its poison thorns,
was sheltered from all feeble songs,
so swept the ample mourns;
Oh scorns! The scorns, the scorns.

The fatal thorns hit several arts-
but non did lose their class,
just one was down -the purest heart,
one of the humble lass.
Alas! Alas! Alas!

No remedy could now revive
the keenest of the spark,
a nations hope to forward strive
doused with a lasting mark.
Oh dark! So dark, so dark.


R.N.Khan, © 2012