Where death stares us in the eye

Where everyone must come to lie

 

Where silence reigns supreme

Where tears flow in streams

 

Where helplessness is everywhere

Where winds howl loud and clear

 

Where both young and old must go

If the angel of death tells them so

 

Where flowers blossom on graves

Where epitaphs catch our gaze 

 

Where the rich and poor are equal made

“With the poor crooked scythe and spade”

(Dr Shehzad Saleem)

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