Reality of Death
The day I die will be no different,
From the day before it or after,
Let not sentiments cloud the truth,
And colour the world with disaster.
the flowers will bloom just the same,
And the sun won’t change its hue,
The moon shall shine a pretty dame,
birds will chirp their early songs too.
The tears that roll down some cheeks,
shall dry up once heart ache heals,
The house I filled with my presence,
may search for me in its quiet silence.
Like the rolling ocean waves descend,
I would have rolled on in time’s trend,
Like the crispy leaves of autumn fall,
a few memories to share,if at all!
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