Death Poem by Prof Niamat Ali Murtazai

Death is arrest for God's rebels
But for his slaves joyful bells.
It is both departure and arrival
That puts man to heaven or hell.
It opens doors to complete justice
All aggression becomes helpless.
It leads eyes to Allah's realms vast
Where combines future, present and past.
It fills meanings in earthly stay
Serious is, no doubt, even play.
Life seems an agent of Death's plot
That, at last, leads to a narrow slot.
It deletes man from air's screen
Sudden it is, sometimes serene.
It removes from bent backs burden
Like the Rescue's vigilant wardon.
It's the most soothing pain killer
An elixir and the quickest healer.
It stops tears falling from eyes
And the rushing gale of deep sighs.
Life is ground, death is D for goal
The only gap for escape for soul.
It's the painter of life's picture
That fills colours in each feature.
Death becomes birth in its circle
If we ponder on vast cycle.