Death Is a Full Blooded Young Sage

Inside the womb of death Secretly sits a full blooded young sage He is alone in his own kingdom In a posture of deep meditation Administering all of us with iron hand While he keeps his eyes closed tight No beating of nerves, yet, he is Much more vibrant and alive. All around him All things deflate and shrink And hovers light in jet black Absolute beauty flashes In its all wilderness And he is surrounded With the ever revolving ultimate truth. Like a shadow under which He keeps pain and sorrow, Love and hate, hunger and thirst Carefully away from us all So that we may never repent After going there willingly. So we all go With a new dress tucked with goodness Spraying sweet scented deodorant Under our smelling body parts As of a newly married bride or bride groom Leaving all the lust and greed Love of money Actually all human emotions and needs Like of this handsome death Life has too Same kind of image and posture Like a hermit, like a sage Bestowed with endless energy Power , strength and tireless working ability To create or to give birth is in his blood To him is an art Like an addiction And all he does with everlasting love For ever ending love As long as love is alive life wins He does not care death for any moment at all