In the cold embrace of December, sorrow grips us tightly, a relentless reminder of grief that lingers in the air. Two tragedies weigh heavy on our hearts: one, the haunting memory of East Pakistan, a land torn apart; the other, the unfathomable loss at APS, where youthful laughter was silenced, leaving only echoes of what once was. How cruelly the innocence of children faded, like whispers carried away by the winds, leaving behind an empty silence that screams in our souls. Their dreams, once bright and full of promise, now flicker like distant stars, turned to ashes in the darkness.Each memory rushes in like a tidal wave, a tide of anguish that threatens to consume us whole. The heart, yet resilient, now bleeds with pain, a raw wound that refuses to heal.It aches for those lost, for the moments stolen away, for the families shattered by unthinkable sorrow.
December cradles us in its icy grasp, each day a somber reminder of the joy that eludes us, as we hold tight to what remains—a flicker of love, a prayer for peace, and the hope that one day, the wind will carry with it the laughter of children once more.
In the stillness of night, your echoes remain, Oh innocent souls of APS, forever in pain. With dreams like twinkling stars, you brightly shone,
A light in the darkness, yet so cruelly gone. Your laughter, a melody woven in time, Now hangs in the silence, a haunting rhyme. Each drop of your blood, a mark of our grief, A milestone of sorrow, yet emblem of belief. We’ll carry your memories, etched deep in our hearts, A reminder of love that never departs. Though shadows may linger, your spirit lives on, In the hearts of the many, you’ll never be gone.
