In the Memory of 8th August 2016

On a sunlit day, radiant and bold, I sat within the lecture's fold,

A voice arose, swift feet did flee, a tale unfolding mysteriously,

Wandering lost midst clamor and sound, seeking the truth, my heart unbound,

All called their dearest, so did I, drawn to the scene beneath the sky.

A black-coated figure, under assault, a protest formed, a mighty exalt,

At the civil hospital, the coats in black, stood united, against the attack,

Yet a mightier roar, the skies did rive, the law school wept, souls did grieve,

A somber exodus, a mournful bout, from those hallowed halls, a sorrowful route.

In fleeting moments, whispers did spread, fathers and brothers, comrades dead,

Cousins and mentors, teachers fair, husbands and friends, lost in despair,

A generation gone, wisdom untold, a wealth of knowledge, now turned to gold,

The day lost its brilliance, the sun turned to gray, as darkness descended, hearts in dismay.

Amidst tears and cries, I found my way, a vacant home where laughter once lay,

Gone were kin, to seek those afar, a city in mourning, beneath night's star,

Quetta's lament, a lawyer's demise, funerals aplenty, beneath tearful skies,

No loss could be spared, no life to ignore, a funeral procession for every soul.

Through days that linger, a dimness remains, the sun's bright gleam forever wanes,

Yet in my heart, a yearning plea, for that radiant morn, once again to see,

The ache in my soul, profound and true, what have we wrought, what must we do?

From the ruins of our craft, a phoenix must rise, to restore the honor, where virtue lies.