purple flowers slowly settled
over the dying day’s eyes
and in the dark of the growing night
drowned the crimson of sullen skies
on the ripples of breeze, swift, unusually cold
soaked in death’s savour
my breaths drifted away, and for ever
mist smiles on my face
eyes gaze into infinity
has winter seeped too deep
when spring should be?
or was that a touch of death?
in immense darkness
on a wooden pile I sleep
the wood and I burn endlessly
and the darkness grows deep
the shine has lost forever
words withered in smoke cloud
heart beats speak no more
murmur of the crackling fire ‘s too loud
my feeble hands unreachable
to clasp the smoke
lost in murky air
in the touch of golden silk flames
I see myself
being tickled, tossed and turned
innocent fire wipes unceasingly
stains of death’s shadows on me
and I get burned!
clutched in the arms of smoke I lie
but the cotton plugs deny
a taste of my mortality
beside the fire I sit and see
the smouldering lips
the vapouring curls
and the vanishing me
those were the eyes of blooming dreams
now melt on shameless pyre
the ashes laugh, mock at me
they carry the death’s desire
stillness, silence, then a hum far away
a pulse in flesh that as soft can be
an unborn life
that’s me...
Notes – This is undoubtedly my favorite of all the poems. I wrote it in my tenth grade. There is a chapter in the Bhagvat Gita, in which Lord Krishna makes Arjun imagine the death of his own body, to emphasize on the fact that he is an everlasting soul and not the mortal body. That is where I drew my inspiration. Couldn't quite get it to a smooth finish though.
