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
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