by Ahmed Bukhatir
From those around I hear a Cry,
A muffled sob, a hopeless sigh,
I hear their footsteps leaving slow,
And then I know my soul must Fly!
A chilly wind begins to blow,
Within my soul, from Head to Toe,
And then, Last Breath escapes my lips,
It's Time to leave. And I must Go!
So, it is True (But it's too Late)
They said: Each soul has its Given Date,
When it must leave its body's core,
And meet with its Eternal Fate.
Oh mark the words that I do say,
Who knows? Tomorrow could be your Day,
At last, it comes to Heaven or Hell
Decide which now, Do NOT delay!
Come on my brothers let us pray
Decide which now, Do NOT delay!
Oh God! Oh God! I cannot see!
My eyes are blind! Am I still Me
Or has my soul been led astray,
And forced to pay a Priceless Fee
Alas to Dust we all return,
Some shall rejoice, while others burn,
If only I knew that before
The line grew short, and came my Turn!
And now, as beneath the sod
They lay me (with my record flawed),
They cry, not knowing I cry worse,
For, they go home, I face my God!
Oh mark the words that I do say,
Who knows, Tomorrow could be your Day,
At last, it comes to Heaven or Hell
Decide which now, Do NOT delay !
Come on my brothers let's pray
Decide which now, do not delay ....
Courtesy of Bukhatir.org
