Charity
Sometimes death lives for eternity,
a captive of silence,
or in hidden journey to flesh;
unless the body betrays the falling stars from eyes.
Dying was an appropriate thing
a festival of freedom for veils,
to leave you alone with your morality.
This terrible life ejects you
on the gravel to become a stone.
The fall from the beautiful height
was meant for charity.
No body wants to die for a toss-up
with life,
for a secret game of tears and smile.
The true thing of despair generates
a darkness, whom I owe my light.
SATISH VERMA
Copyright © Satish Verma | Year Posted 2008
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment