Light in the Grave
~*~*~*~
Last night, as I lay in my bed
Hoping to rest my weary head
It was impossible with a gale outside
Menacing winds which I hoped would subside
Bangs and thuds pierced the silence in my room
Like jinn's wrestling in the eerie gloom
I tossed and turned praying for it to end
But no sooner had I thought it did, it would start again
My room was just visable in the grey-ish light
I almost expected to see a thing of fright
Suddenly my imagination took an unexpected turn
A figure stood by my bed dark and stern
It had come to take my soul - the Angel of Death
I imagined how I'd feel if all this wasn't in my head
Would I be cowering or calm in front of my Creator's will?
Though at the time I kept very still
This dim light was playing with my imagination
So I got up and drew the curtains
Now I could see nothing - it was pitch black
But my thoughts now went on a different track
I imagined the darkness of the grave
A feeling of claustrophobia, yet endless space?
It was hard to fathom what could emerge from the dark
Lights of my good deeds or ugly manifestations of my cruel remarks?
I needed my sleep but this was a troublesome night
I reached over to my lamp and flicked on the light
As quick as a flash my room was bathed in a comforting glow
My imagination relaxed, yet it reminded me of how
There will be no lamps in the final resting place
Except the brilliance of good deeds, to light up our graves.
~*~*~*~
Last night, as I lay in my bed
Hoping to rest my weary head
It was impossible with a gale outside
Menacing winds which I hoped would subside
Bangs and thuds pierced the silence in my room
Like jinn's wrestling in the eerie gloom
I tossed and turned praying for it to end
But no sooner had I thought it did, it would start again
My room was just visable in the grey-ish light
I almost expected to see a thing of fright
Suddenly my imagination took an unexpected turn
A figure stood by my bed dark and stern
It had come to take my soul - the Angel of Death
I imagined how I'd feel if all this wasn't in my head
Would I be cowering or calm in front of my Creator's will?
Though at the time I kept very still
This dim light was playing with my imagination
So I got up and drew the curtains
Now I could see nothing - it was pitch black
But my thoughts now went on a different track
I imagined the darkness of the grave
A feeling of claustrophobia, yet endless space?
It was hard to fathom what could emerge from the dark
Lights of my good deeds or ugly manifestations of my cruel remarks?
I needed my sleep but this was a troublesome night
I reached over to my lamp and flicked on the light
As quick as a flash my room was bathed in a comforting glow
My imagination relaxed, yet it reminded me of how
There will be no lamps in the final resting place
Except the brilliance of good deeds, to light up our graves.
~*~*~*~
