GOOD MEMORIES

Father was a great man.
I bless how he lived like a lion
& transit in the most courageous style.
Say death is a bitter drink.
All shall attest to its sourness.
Father left this world but his
soul still lingers everywhere:
like dust, his dominance spread its
Wings on us—every night & day.
Father left this world with echoing
words. Words that have pains &
tranquility in themselves.
“To live is to die; to die is to live”
Father smiled at death without a struggle.
Such a good, happy end. Such a calm bar-cross.
Alas! Man is a seed; death is a reaper.
I swear, you & I, will die. People will mourn.
For days. Things will materialize into pain.
Into Grief. Into memories. Into moonlight tales.

by Abdulrazaq Tasleem

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