The Last Of Eleven Poem by Usama Ahmad Rana

Reflecting faith; jewel Char´act
Her image in mind fresh, a fact

A child she was to speak the truth
The way but she managed demands a salute

In vicinity of the greatest of flesh
curiousity didn't hinder her devotion in quest

Being the last of eleven
she would get the latest revelations in their first next

The greatest carrier of 'teaching'
delivered the lines in a way too tried;
no averaging, addition or deletion
all the way he(SAW) lived, the scene he(SAW) died

I'm closing the topic, putting down my pen
a tear from eye can affect the beauty I lined
Accept a tribute in rhymes, though I know a sin I am
and you seemingly of none, are a mother of all kind

(Usama Ahmad Rana- June 25,2011)