Thursday, 7 January 2016

Death must be Beautiful



Who said the death is so fearful?
I think it must be so beautiful
Because whosoever meets with it
Never comes back and forever accompanies it

It comes at its own stipulated time
And neither walls nor obstacles
Can stop it from coming when it does
When it is time, it is time

Strange behaviour of people, I have seen
Bringing down the strong and keen
Yet trying to treat the weak and the dying
Oblivious of the death, round the corner spying

Some people hide their colossal pains
Behind their wide smiles and laughter
Some people gratify their grief
By pouring their hearts out

Rich or poor, strong or weak
The death does not care
Affluent or not the size of pyre,
Remains same turning the remnants to ashes
(The grave remains the same in size)

We never know which talk
Would be our last
We never know which walk
Would be our last

We never know which night
Would be our last
We never know which light
Would be our last

Therefore talk like it is your last talk
Walk like it is your last walk
Enjoy the beauty of the nature
As if it is going to be your last

Enjoy the company of each other
As we depart and meet
We never know
When it would be our last

I have not seen death
But it must be beautiful
For I have seen people who met with it
Accompanying it never to return again
And never to return again