Their Daughter
Their daughter has passed to another world,
Forming an image in the mind, in the heart;
It lingers from frail limbs, the movement of death,
This death is significant, and I am distinct.
This daughter may shudder, alone in the night,
And pick up distressful voices telling her to wake up.
She never does, all the time in silence, every second
Is without her now, but why do you also live?
Love her if ever she falls in love with heaven,
After the death, and more laughter.
poem by Naveed Akram
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
