A word, that we are too scared to utter,
A beauty, that we cease to observe,
A boon, which we see as a curse
A lesson, we do not learn.
The red roses,
The winter and spring,
All that is beautiful and cherished
must meet its end.
I reinforce no act of cowardice,
To run away from life itself,
Death isn't a solution,
Rather a finality.
It may be intimidating,
Until we realize,
It isn't grief,
But joy in itself.
Nobody knows of its arrival,
For it is a surprise,
Which resonates the words of Horace,
Carpe Diem, Seize the present.
It may be a wave of sorrow,
May seem like a betrayal to one's kin,
It is a call of peace,
For it relieves us of our incessant stride.
Dying renders life delicious,
Emerging from the aroma of memories,
Tis' a mug of elixir,
Healing to our pain.
Let us not be slaves to life,
Purposeless as it stands,
Without an end.
All is forgiven when one dies,
The one walks the last walk alone,
Thus, lets embrace ourselves,
Forsake our guilt and tears that we hold back
For the "Self" is what remains
At the wake of our demise.
Let us march forth with the cry of joy
To the pleasure that we owe.
To be bosomed by the warmth of our end
Let us not be scared, my love
Freedom awaits us.
When the time is ripe,
Let us rejoice, not weep
As we close our eyes to peaceful sleep.
- sairam
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