My son I found you lonely haunting pains!
I lost thy life in duke of forest brook.
Why could not see I coffin float there moors?
Where did they take to bury my heart and groom?
My bleeding heart that tears as glacier melts!
Oh, son! I have the smell thy soil of grave;
If only were I grass that would there grows.
Thou were toddler, grew so old and brave.
My age that blinds my eyes to see thee more.
My sobs too touch the skies and fall thy grave.
Becoming feeble as people me calls so sore,
Ya Allah bless my son and haul the slave.
My Life as seems as toy as void my son,
Alas! The world too goes and moves the fun.