As we mourn for those
Departed and free
We send our tasbeeh
To plant them a tree
So their garden grows
Unexplainably
With verdant remembrances
For them to see
إِنَّا لِلَّٰهِ وَإِنَّا إِلَيْهِ رَاجِعُونَ
Word, like wind, cuts through you / Withers all but true you