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Poem

Princess of love,
A queen of hearts,
By your departure,
By your flight,
You tore the nation,
In pieces and parts,
I lost the words, nor could I borrow,
To describe the pain, sadness and sorrow,
Of a nation in mourning,
That woke up by morning,
To find a Queeny, departing earlier than tomorrow,
By your departure,
By your plight,
To the skies,
To mighty might,

The world is sad,
The mood is bad,
The young is mad,
Of agony and more sorrows,
The fate is fate,
No one can date,
Nor predict, the destiny,
Today or tomorrow,
Younger in her prime,
Younger golden time,
Found her rightly prince,
Her ultimate Dodi her beloved hero,
But suddenly, departed with him and co,
What a loss! What a grief! And what a sorrow!
In the baby thought,
Her goodness and action,
In the poor and needy’s,
Her complete affection,
She was the icon,
She was the beacon,
She was the model,
In her complexion,

The fields will remember,
The fields will retain,
The dark August and September,
The tragedy and main,
News and queues!
And deposed roses,
By gates and mews!
A baby crying poses,
Everyone will mourn,
Everyone will weep,
The coffin, in morning, and at down,
Neither words to add nor to borrow,
To describe the sadness and sorrow.

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