Death In War Poem by Shafee Pitafi

I'm untamed and I'm a coward
Cannot battle my war
Though,
Have in my hand my sword
Having the sway
Only can step forward to
Rushing the warriors among
Pulling them
Perhaps with no reason and fear.
Have reached the soldier
Rendering chance to kick butt the reward
I, a timid solider
But prized too
Disrupts the question, why
Is it my worth?
I know not.
The soldier won the prize
Killed me to the appalling death.
Then realized the answer of why
Alas! always heedless
Now but,
Full of lamentations.
Disable to do something
That can propel me back
Own no wish like Robert Frost:
"I would like to get away from earth awhile
and come back and begin it over"
Now as a smelly dead
Not listening to you - the world
of my dreams and emotions
Cannot feel the Sufi wind of Sindh
Cannot dive into the Holy Indus
Cannot listen to the religious songs of Sindh
Cannot speak the language of my mother
Cannot hug the soul of my siblings
Cannot sense out the love
The unseen colors
The intellectual talks
The beautiful uttering
The affable feelings
The unbearable famine
The expected revolution
The happily songs
and the universal and rhythmical poetry!
Now you can bury me somewhere there.
But,
Will meet the soulful poet Ayaz
in the heaven of literature
Where all my spiritual teachers reside
From the west to east,
The north to south.