Tuesday, 22 February 2011

Death

A pale face of grave
Once adorned—Flowers—
Dead and strewn ;
And a few torn memories
Kissing a passionless coffin.

The dirge mellows
The pain is burnt
Droplets weep;
The wan sky hangs
A long scythe of rainbow
Neatly drawn in colours of grief.

Rejoice, O Soul
Paint on seamless images of death
Upon placid pool of expressions.

2 comments:

  1. I read this many times.Just leaves me wordless to comment. I guess my compliment is "I am affected".

    ReplyDelete
  2. I am too always affected by purity of your appreciation, Sidharth!

    ReplyDelete

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