SONNET 424
By JH Sayyar
I met a man going to a fairy land,
Ninety years old sat under a tree,
He said me to sit with his hand,
Talked about old days; no worry,
Like sparrows used to go far away
Leaving me alone with my spouse,
He heaved a sigh; soul full of fray,
No motion, my pain a has a cause,
He said, ‘Men pray for a long life,
just to God My Son to shorten days,
Death is better than old age, a strife,
Thankless never; sings God’s praise
Ungrateful to God in year’s season
Old death, young life, unjust reason
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