"Murdered".

In the last days, oh my God what scene!

Attract the iris such attentives of my eyes,

While deep down of soul wound me the spines,

Of images such insane and unmerciful in it scene.

There is a insane death and to me; this is the bomb,

Of which I speak in extensives backs and no prose,

At see to rain no water rain petals of the rose,

Upon the body without life of Benazir within the tomb.

This it's doing the mind revolve in discouragement,

In the my to gaze upon of the dose in the glass of endearment,

Who c omo of deep that hearts.

And my walk isn't, so, such silent,

In presence the remembered of instant appaling,

In what murdered the lider of Paquistan.