RedPaper.in – Guest Post
By: Sharmistha De | Write-For-RedPaper
They have left us, left us alone…
Wondering where they now belong?
An uncanny prelude walks past,
I know not at whose grave I sit.
But I sit in despair, a crooning melancholy touches my soul…
De-souls me for a moment,
So many incomplete relations they left behind.
Many have made it an artificial show off,
Why such treachery of human souls?
The souls those left us behind may call for their loved ones,
The smell of flowers as if scoffing at them.
Perhaps they want to be let alone.
Why call the past today?
So much of pain is engraved within the cold earth,
They left us, leaving mortal existence,
A life full of strifes and heartbreaks,
The end is so prevalent,
Am alive to die, my eloquence whispers.
A platter of respect with animate heart vortex when alive none ever cared.
Al-muhasba: so does all!
Then why the call aback…unwinding deepened wounds.
I sit alone know not at whose grave,
But I share, share my piece of sorrow,
I let my tears intoxify, know not for whom I rain.
I wish to break the walls of nostalgia,
But I can’t, suffocates myself.
I know, know I’ll die too…
Universally that’s what I await,
Waiting for the end to begin!
To be a soul free from earthly vibes,
Just the soul… surrendered and emotionless!