One day when the sun rises, I won’t rise from my bed.
I become opaque and lifeless.
People see me through their teardrops.
We tread on this thread of life.
That too, fractured.
A fragile life.
No matter whether you lie or not,
You will die, forget this not.
No matter whether you live this big or small,
Death is for all.
To stand out, we did what we did.
But finally we are always buried among the commons.
And life goes on.
As it always has been.
We live like the half-buried plants and trees.
The secrets we keep are the roots that hold the trees.
Only the green can be seen.
The Devil’s shop said, “Graves for all”
He said, “Get a life, have a grave free”
The condition is, “ You have to take them together”
Free costs more.
Only haves and have-nots,
Not a single grave and grave-not,
Walked on this earth.
Lured by the freedom for the soul,
We say “Yes” to death.
Knowing that we won’t rise.