In Memory of Ahmed Faraz

I remember his verses
In his trails, words of revolution
In his thoughts, words of gold
Now carry we will, in our way
In continuation, to find
What became a dream?
For the poet, for our friend
A blessed soul, of our own
Not borrowed, not stolen
One of our own, the Faraz
We will miss him and words
That breathed revolution
Death can only bring whispers
But words, a torrent of revolution
Good bye my friend, sleep well!


Kashkin