A “Knight-ingale” (A tribute to Sidra Latif)
The place was swarming with many a restless head.
Tough was the clash, and the day was red.
Her name was called; she left her place,
And stepped on stage with an exceptional grace.
Sturdy and strong, she took hold of the dais
With a warm and distinctive look on her face.
She began to address ‘em and let her lips apart
In a remarkable way that’d touch one’s heart.
Expressing her thoughts without a flaw,
She left the audience in sheer awe.
And as she ended her speech with a touching clause,
The air reverberated with cheers and applause.
She’s unique in her own way, not like the rest.
Perfect with words; with thoughts the best.
She was born to lead; back, she couldn’t stay
And it’s not the story of a single day.
In every contest, in every battle
She won the day and proved her mettle.
Be it speaking, writing or medical field,
She won’t let her name remain concealed.
In looks, she’s graceful and elegant,
In nature, assiduous and diligent.
With unique thoughts, she’s a lady of letters
Who stays modest no matter how much one flatters.
Strong as a leader, she won’t tolerate any bends.
But as a sister, her affection knows no ends.
She’s a tree that bears fruit and remains shady
Undoubtedly, the incarnation of an ideal lady.
Though, the institute will always hail her name,
But, without her, this place won’t be the same.
Her success story will be remembered as a glorious tale
She’s the lady of K.E, “a Knight-ingale”.