177. When I think about your pretty being,

SONNET 177

By JH Sayyar
When I think about your pretty being,
You appear before me in a naked day,
Your face reflects your age is fleeing,
We can’t avoid more cruel time sway.
One day I fly to heaven but remains,
My love with you my last love breath,
God bless my love; be free of pains,
How much I love you proves my death.
When I die O Lady come on my grave,
Talk to my poor soul in a jovial mood,
Your sweet memory in my brain I save,
Death is nothing but life-play interlude.

Love never dies it does belong to soul;
Our soul flies up, our dust goes to hole.