What are you, O Death?
Are you the bounty of the unknown?
Or, are you the wisdom of beauty?
When darkness brims over my cup of wine
When twilight follows the shadows of silence
I see you in all colours of days and nights
When the bowl of hunger stokes fire in cry of pains
The frozen mask dismembers all charms
And the streetcar forsakes all desires
You stand by holding your sceptre
Shivering fear and tears melt into the eternal ire
As I see your face painted in veiled mystery
And I know you prophesying the myth of fire of pyre.

Nostalgia of life deepens
Through thick and thin of earthly delights
When I see no light of darkness for a moment's breath
To rekindle the last wicks of your truth of wisdom.
I know you the unknown of all seasons
As I see you on the heap of beauty of truth
Like the old messiah greeting the pleasures of pains
To uphold the destiny of seven sins and virtues
To the glory of the last testaament of mortal beings.
I know you the inevitable of all smaller things
As I see your face in all splendours of disguises
Fiddling amongst the bones and ashes of ruins
While the empire bears the buren of fear and tears.

O Death! I have seen your face
I know you the unknown of all things
I know you the inevitable of all mortal beings
Yet the quest of long journey gets me nowhere
I come back to you to be born and reborn forever
To know the truth of your beauty
To know the other face of your wisdom
That haunts me to look for your face everywhere.

Categories: Poetry [t]

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