Voice Of The Grave Poem by Anas Affan
Voice Of The Grave
Oh! my daughter, Oh! my son
Don't forget me beneath the sun
He made by me, She made by me
With in a span you come to me
Children will cry, Neighbour will cry
Towards the sky when sole will fly
Person will measure with lengthy thread
Of your bodys length and breadth
Then make me lengthy how much you are
They make me widey how much you are
People will carry they feel burden
Then pray for you to be in eden
Then you will dumped inside to me
After a week they forget to thee
I will be heaven if you are good
I will be hell if you are bad
You are the human use your sense
Always be ready don't see the dense
Oh! my daughter, Oh! my son
Don't forget me beneath the sun
When I wanted to read one of your poem, I came to your page, and the title of this poem immediately caught my eyes, so here I am. The poem is really fantastic and it really gives what readers wants to find when then read about death. Well done Mohammad, and thank you so much for sharing the poem with us. Death is a truth that none of us can ignore or skip.
I like the honesty of you sentiments but do not be chained by rhyme and structure because they can impede what you are trying to say.
The final destination of the mightiest men, we should think of it during our lives.
Powerful write....when life is given death will waiting at its end...and we are toward that time :) Keep it up
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 4:51:09 AM # 1.0.0.1119
The call of the grave so perfectly pictured thru your words. Keep the great job going. Very nicely penned.10++++