‘Wake up, baby, wake up.'
Cradling his infant twins
sobbing Al-youssef uttered,
choking back his tears.
Toxic gas: the silent killer,
had snuffed out their life.
The grieving father realised
bodies in his arms were dead.
At their final resting place,
in a heart-wrenching voice
he mumbled: ‘Say goodbye,
baby, say goodbye.'
Goodbye? Was it to a father
they hardly came to know
or to a world they got no chance
to live in, before they were killed?
Ajit Kumar Das
[The aforementioned poem was (...)
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Goodbye!
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