My Son, My Saif, My Sword

My Son, My Saif, My Sword,

We all understand, but need to reprise, day in and day out as we try to survive.

I miss my son, my Saif, my sword, where do I sheath my heart? It feels like I lost my soul.

What is wrong with people, why is life still moving? Can’t they see that I am still grieving?

I lost a part of me, I lost me, I lost mine… I would give everything up to see him just one more time.

I miss my son, my Saif, my sword, I miss him more than ever before.

Some days are bearable, others just cruel, what do I do when I just want to talk to you?

I am not angry, pain engulfs me, just a vivid thought can debilitate me.

I miss my son, my Saif, my sword, he is why I move forth.

Cliché after Cliché, doesn’t hurt and just some help. Nothing matters anymore, without a piece of myself.

Move forward I shall, what choice do I have. I will carry him with me, every breath that I have.

He was and still is my biggest strength…my son, my Saif, my Sword. My loving grace…

With Love and remembrance.

KsK

A poem written by Kabir Kassam of Chicago, Illinois dedicated to Saif Ali (23) who passed away November 24th, 2017. Kabir was Saif’s 12th grade religious education teacher and is a close family friend of Saif. Thank you Salima Ali and Amir Ali (Saif’s parents) and Kabir Kassam for allowing me to publish this via Ismailimail. You are physically gone from this world Saif, but you will never be forgotten. May your soul rest in eternal peace.

 

–Irfan Ali, Irfan_101@hotmail.com