Thy soul's candlelight be forev'r luminescent;
From moment o' birth, to moment o' death.
A crescent figure, dost thine own growth represent —
Which why, live thou fullest, 'til thy last breath.
Lest time's come and a Shadow'd Steed shall escort thee;
Thou cast no regrets, for thy life, ne'er been weary.
As Heaven's Gate open'd up for thee, thou shall zest!
"My year's hundredth shall be tranquil till my day's rest"
Oh, thy life's flam'st candle dost it shine even then;
Thou wander'd: 'tis the Paradise of Saints;
Thus, they proclaim'd "Rejoice! Thy radiance shan't darken!"
Then thou awoke in a vessel untaint'd.
— Shuma