Many years ago a little girl sits in a dungeon so dark
After a journey that no child should embark
As she sleeps on the cold dust she remembers the warmth of her father’s chest
And how she slept on it for the last time
He never came back after that..
Just like her six month old brother who died flapping his hands like an injured bird
How she misses playing with him and swinging his cradle
Just like her brave uncle whose death forever quenched her thirst
Whom she remembered when she was slapped hard on her face
I wish u were here o father, o uncle come back and take me away from this place
What came back was the head of her father full of blood.
As she wiped the blood away she kept it on her lap with a tear’s flood
And went to sleep, a peaceful sleep ever
We will remember and mourn her forever
By Zainab Rehmtulla