Where all bloom, the rose and tulip's blush, now gleam,
Concealed within the dust, what forms did dream.
Sorrow's loss, a mortal's end, a fading trace,
Sorrow's loss, a mortal's end, erased from space.
Burdened hard, the path, now ease descends,
If Ghalib wept, and cried until the end,
Behold these towns, once vibrant, now in blight,
A desert's whisper in the fading light.
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