bOOK of cONDOLENCE
time, the constant enemy of us all
i don't know if we're aware of it
before we all have to submit,
and inevitably beckoning the call.
tragedy strikes and i have been not forwarned.
bestowed with a search of power
outstandig void, darkest hour,
finally the beloved, dead is mourned.
shackled by this heavy burden, i am now
in days of yore, a tranquil stream,
wilde awake, a convalescent dream,
how can i process sudden pain, tell me how?
contemplative change, mind-expanding event.
to live is to die or to die is to live.
the mourners are left alone, sharing the grief;
why has it vome to such an end?
is this the end?
wholeheartedly, you planted the grain.
wholeheartedly, you endured the pain.
wholeheartedly, your mind was in strife.
with a smile on your face expired your life
lachrymal circumstance in crestfallen time.
stop taking things for granted!
and eat my way through the pain.
i have the right to suffer, but i shall survive!
if you lose your parents you might lose you past
and in case of the death of descendents
your future is gone! repentance!
an iota of truth is what you search. Who is the last?
can i possibly maintain a sound, itellegent mind...
how to raise such energies?
i am not a saint, dividing seas,
but in the last attempt there's consolation to find.
i am taken aback by anguish!!!
it's an agonizing force...
and still, in harmony we all dwell.
death is a live source!
death, is a life source!
wholeheartedly, you saved us from strain.
wholeheartedly, i inscribe my name.
wholeheartedly, with respect and strength.
i inscribe my name in the book of condolence.
by Sanjai Shah