SONNET 161
By JH Sayyar
Many a times jealous death I’ve thought,
You take my soul from my body one day,
When you go with it while I have got,
An immortal soul without any fear sway
My soul is free from all earthly matters,
I have changed my soul into nothingness,
Just you can dust me, not my love shatters,
After death my verses show you freshness.
There is no death in it, but we take the taste,
Of death; so we do sleep for long times,
Awaking me seems; my whole life I waste,
But shall be my name in my pretty rimes
Oh! Poor death I am not afraid of you,
All are born to die but I am not is true.
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