The guest of God

This poem is dedicated to: Hazim Shafi Bhat. A 14 years mentally unsound teen from Khaipora Qaziabad who has recently been killed in Handwara. 😰😰 ................. POEM........ ... THE GUEST OF GOD...... He was stammering just to say Ma, He never hurt a bee or an ant in dark, They too did turn there ways often, seeing him hobbling and floundering. He was dear to them, dear to all, His innocent mischiefs makes them gay, You know his friends? they laughed at him, They loved the delicate moments of his being, His wide gaped tooth, the smiling king , Who reigned that lone village for the decade, Is no more now! The iron stabbed him! The Iron, he never touched, killed the king. The backer will wait of his arrival tomorrow. The bread will weep,the stick will lament, He often used to carry in his fragile hands. The kingly smile will haunt his friends, His mother is waiting his drool to be cleaned, His bedrabbled clothes are hung by his sisters, ""Come soon, we are waiting your spawl". But, oh! I see him in the heavens right now, Asking his God, what is his crime? A long discussion is going on,i feel now, However, thousands i see are attending him, The beautiful angels, wow! The beautiful heaven, Neither that stammer nor that weakness. He is today, a guest of the God. ............ Aftab Tariq........... ...... He was stammering just to say Ma, He never hurt a bee or an ant in dark, They too did turn there ways often, seeing him hobbling and floundering. He was dear to them, dear to all, His innocent mischiefs makes them gay, You know his friends? they laughed at him, They loved the delicate moments of his being, His wide gaped tooth, the smiling king , Who reigned that lone village for the decade, Is no more now! The iron stabbed him! The Iron, he never touched, killed the king. The backer will wait of his arrival tomorrow. The bread will weep,the stick will lament, He often used to carry in his fragile hands. The kingly smile will haunt his friends, His mother is waiting his drool to be cleaned, His bedrabbled clothes are hung by his sisters, ""Come soon, we are waiting your spawl". But, oh! I see him in the heavens right now, Asking his God, what is his crime? A long discussion is going on,i feel now, However, thousands i see are attending him, The beautiful angels, wow! The beautiful heaven, Neither that stammer nor that weakness. He is today, a guest of the God. ............ Aftab Tariq........... ...... He was stammering just to say Ma, He never hurt a bee or an ant in dark, They too did turn there ways often, seeing him hobbling and floundering. He was dear to them, dear to all, His innocent mischiefs makes them gay, You know his friends? they laughed at him, They loved the delicate moments of his being, His wide gaped tooth, the smiling king , Who reigned that lone village for the decade, Is no more now! The iron stabbed him! The Iron, he never touched, killed the king. The backer will wait of his arrival tomorrow. The bread will weep,the stick will lament, He often used to carry in his fragile hands. The kingly smile will haunt his friends, His mother is waiting his drool to be cleaned, His bedrabbled clothes are hung by his sisters, ""Come soon, we are waiting your spawl". But, oh! I see him in the heavens right now, Asking his God, what is his crime? A long discussion is going on,i feel now, However, thousands i see are attending him, The beautiful angels, wow! The beautiful heaven, Neither that stammer nor that weakness. He is today, a guest of the God. ............ Aftab Tariq........... ......😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰