WHEN THEY DIE

 picture courtesy:internet

Death isn’t all it seems.

The old ideas still hold good,

Of man’s separation

From this miserable world

To that land of joy.

But man is just man himself,

Groping in vain in the darkness of time.

The time had come,

They die with little smiles,

And the world around

just cries aloud!

The world mourns

Just for a day or two.

But death leaves a wound

In the hearts of the dearest ones.

For, gone are they

Who had been near for so long,

Long not in the scales of time

Every moment, a life-time!

For you had seen in them

A universe of your own,

And now all of a sudden

Your world shattered into pieces.

With the passage of time

Your joys and leisures would come

But not in the pack of happiness.

Every joy would sting

And every leisure would ache,

And in the depths of your heart

Remain a void; a hollow so large

That nothing would ever fill it!

The world just turns too busy,

But deep in your heart,

The pain would never cease!

Death is the most casual thing of all,

But not the grief of separation.

Each day and night

Would seem so long,

Each room and space

Would remind you of them.

And that is when you come to know,

Beauty is never beauty itself.

The gentle breeze, the flowing rivers,

The blooming flowers, the silent night,

All seem a beauty when

You are with them, your dearest ones.

But when death has captured

The most dearest of all,

Even the silent night

Would seem too grave!