By JH Sayyar
O fading voice once loud in hall and square,
Where power bowed beneath thy haughty will,
Now silence weaves its threads through air,
And time prepares the heart it comes to still.
Thy name was storm upon the nation’s tide,
A banner bold in wars of word and law;
But even mountains, though they reign in pride,
Must yield to dusk and nature's ancient draw
What legacy shall linger in your place?
Ah! A truth half-spoken or a noble lie
The crowd forgets the firmness in your face
And only whispers as your moments die.
Yet if one deed was wrought in honest flame,
Let that alone redeem your mortal name.
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