Cry for the Future

Title: Cry for the Future

Author: Ahasan Habibulla

A boy was born—and the heavens wept,

Yet the world rejoiced at his cry.

Before his eyes beheld the sun,

A book was placed into his fragile hands.

Too heavy for his frame,

Yet he bore it,

A silent herald of the life to come.

Childhood fled like smoke through trembling fingers.

Before laughter could bloom,

Duty descended—

His father’s voice a distant drum,

The family’s hope a chain upon his shoulders.

Bright hues of boyhood dreams

Dissolved into shadowed gray.

Adolescence arrived, tempestuous and fierce,

Dreams of glory struck by lightning of despair.

Life, a cruel paramour,

Betrayed him with sweet illusions.

The boy within starved,

Shivering in ambition’s cold corridors.

He grew, he married,

Dinners weighed with the strife of mother and wife,

Youth’s brilliance swallowed by shadow.

Old age came swiftly, pale as twilight,

A specter upon the harvest of his days.

His son wed,

Yet he still dreamed,

Placing fragile hope

In the hands of a grandson,

As though Time itself could be turned,

As though destiny might be rewritten.

Now he stands at death’s silent threshold,

Counting the hollow hours of peace.

Perhaps he always knew

He came into this world crying,

For the future he alone was meant to bear.

In the grave he shall rest,

Heart still reaching for a distant light.

If freedom shall grace his soul,

Then all shall unite—

No sorrow, no pain,

No hatred, no wrath.

Shall destiny grant this final boon?

Only the eternal river of time

Shall whisper the answer.