Death Poem by Bharat Trivedi

Will your promise
to meet me some day be fulfilled?
before my eyelids droop in eternal sleep and infinite peace!
but better hurry up,
as dear death is constantly knocking
on the weather beaten pane of my aged hour-glass,
patiently waiting like a predator
to pounce upon its panicky prey.
Sword of lightning strikes ruthlessly
across the damp black skies
dancing to the tune of raging thunder-storms,
claps at me in jest…

Flocks of hungry vultures hover above me
to feast on my withered vegetarian body.
while my soul prepares to pen
the last chapter of my life
in the skin-bound volumes
of my body’s autobiography…

Copyright ©2008 Bharat B. Trivedi