~ Duty ~

So busy he was on that day
Running here and there
Doing what he has been doing for years
For years
It is his job
His duty

So busy he was on that day
Flying here and there
Harvesting some of HisMaster’s crops
Diligently
Never had he refused it
Never will

On that day
He harvests more crops that he usually does
More than twice, thrice
A lot more than that

Though his fields was small
Too small compare to his domain
In His Master’s domain
His field was a tiny dirt
Compare to mountains and volcanoes
In His Master’s domain

His friend came to him the day before
And tells him
"I will blow my Trumpet"
"So the ground will shake"
"and the water will rise"
“In the name of Our Master, do what He tells you to do”

On that day
Izrail harvested more than two hundred thousand souls
And may be more

On that day
His Master’s name was prayed aloud
By too many dying lips

The quake and the tsunami were his friend’s doing
The death itself was his doing, his job, and his duty

So busy he was on that day
Doing what he meant to be
Taking breaths out of dying lips