A Monologue On The Grave Poem by Muhammad Shanazar

“You passed away and I am left behind,
With your kids: two daughters and a son.
Two years have passed since you have departed,
And for me these proved the centuries.
You are buried deep beneath tons of earth,
And live there in the unexplored world,
I lived not a single moment without recalling you,
But you have stopped your sojourn into my dreams.”

“I have lost my esteem and where ever I move,
Scandalous eyes stare with slanderous looks.
I remember, on your sad demise there came
Some uniformed men, all neat and clean,
And handed over you to the mother earth,
With strange tricks and so-called obsequies.
They played, peeled forth some notes of dirge,
Saluting you by thumping, thrashing the ground
Around your grave trod the tufts of fragrant grass.
Then placed they braided tassels of wild bushes,
They gave me your cap, belt and blood-stained boots,
And a petty cheque in exchange of sacrificed love.”

“Now no one comes to divide my miserable plight,
I go through the world by embracing your children,
Sacrificing my emotions, at nights I groan and moan,
My eyes have not yet consumed the stock of tears,
I smoulder all alone into the fire of my own entity,
I am confounded whether you were martyred,
Or died a vain death while bleeding the countrymen,
Fighting for the Nato’s Peace Keeping Forces who made you
The victim of friendly-fire.”