Pardon this heart that loomily bounced,
That it may in this life's long night
Restored somehow be to household of
     peace,
Which, in grave or before,
Can give relief to owner's  pain:
  >It is concerned tears that aflame flow,
  >Which render fatal fears so nearly real.

From when reason first stroke the race on
           Solon's tongue,
Strong stood and made its roars heard,
To the ears of that trouble- gotten
           Hellenic year,
Whose winter of rage brought drought to
            intellect,
Convenience wounds it at chance in
            every age:
   >If 'winning' we see when guns roar,
   >Then dark be right, we to all beauty
           blind!

                                              -by
                                   Hakim H. Kassim.
                                   (d. January, 1989)