Death Poem by Durlabh Singh

For Time and Death and mortal pain
Give wounds that will not heal again.
Emily Bronte

From the land of the night
The death has spread its wings
Marking eyes cooling lips starved
The hope gone under a goad stray
Sensitized trivial heart bleeding gray.

An anchorage in diseased body
Watering like the autumnal wind
Deadly dust spreading over decay
Strangled air under cover of mourning
Inky night casting shadows over the day.