Poem: Grasp of Death – Who am I?

Who am I and Death

True Meaning of Impermanence

Time passes every moment
Like electrons underlying current
Yet we relish the beautiful sight
It is current, no child’s toy

As a child, I enjoyed Ice cream.
Now is the time to see big dreams.
Everywhere I hear loud screams.
Time up, you are on leave.

The Twenty year old has turned forty.
Waves pushing me gently
Ah! What a pleasant journey!

Lo, Where am I, THIS IS NOT ME!
The sculptor makes a beautiful piece
Just touchups left, all good for see

‘I can move, twist and play!’
Look, this is fresh cast clay.
Let me leave the piece on shelf
And start a new project instead

‘It’s 12 PM! What about me?’
I am done, excuse me please.

True Meaning of freedom

A little child jumps in traffic
Freely moving and singing music

A speedy car bangs his way
The child shuts his eyes in dismay

What does this episode indicate?
Am I the body or the Free State?

The glass I wear has dust all over.
Youth must undergo a complete makeover.

Freshness of cells does the magic
This is 1+1= 2 logic.

An Extremely mysterious truth indeed
One understands this when time leaves.
Once beautiful has turned ugly.
If it was her, can it be she?

The fact called Death

Death happens every moment.
Call it Cutting, Breaking, Dying or Fading

Name it, you find it
Turn around and see all-over
Something awaits you in your tower

Do the living have life?
No, the non-living live alongside.

A man burns in a crematorium
A watch decays in the dustbin.

An egg is fried on pan
Others wait in the queue line

One ahead, other behind.
The waiting ones don’t rejoice,

When Youth comes, old age strikes.
Present, Present, Present!

Nothing Wrong, but see beyond.
Let me take you for a time-machine ride.

Hold the bench and stay upright.
Imagine a life of sixty

Growth, decay and death
The trio come unchecked

Truth stands unchallenged
A lie needs many to strive

To maintain things how we die
To destroy, a second’s time

Death is the ultimate truth.
None stand before its majesty though

Past is Dead

Old photos deepen my scars
To see myself long behind

Where remains the tangible proof?
Burnt to ashes in the furnace of time.

avoid photos

New generation can’t sympathize
For again starts the same lie.

An inner shift, a jumbled mind.
How can I get the freshness back?

Word spoken can’t come back
How I played and danced!

How I jumped in open skies!
The same young me haunts my soul

All changed within a few years.
My loved ones, dear ones where are they?
I stand alone in a crowded fair.

A dragging journey this has become
None remain to share my inner fears…

Thanks for reading

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