I find death to be the most interesting thing to think about.
Would there be flowers dropping from sky,
would my words fade away,
would my paintings be restored,
would there be angels coming from heaven
to carry me to their place,
would there be people to cry after I’m gone, gone far away?
I think about the death bed I lay in,
lifeless and motionless,
I think about the stories they talk,
about the flowers, it’s fragrance,
about the cries, it’s voices,
I’m surrounded with.
I have watched death changing one’s life,
I have watched death changing a person,
I have watched death transforming lives,
I have watched death teaching what life is.
I wonder, what my death can
do in the lives I had been a part of,
I wonder, if i would be lost, buried
like autumn leaves,
if i would slowly get lost
from their memories.
I ask to myself,
If death is peace,
If death is silence,
If death is an end.
Is this because why death is fascinating,
they do so much in many lives?
It is pain, scar, pressure, sadness and sobs.
Death is a change,
people are ephemeral,
life is an evanescent memory on the whole.
Just in the last post, I said I couldn’t make time to write about sadness however I wrote this piece last week and edited it today. Dark poems coming on the way! 🙈
Will catch up with the posts I missed in a couple of days. Thank you so much for being around and making my days more brighter, happier with your beautiful comments. ❤