Treasure Island

Thomas PJ New Delhi

(March 15,1964 / Kerala)

Death - The Gift of Life


There’s nothing certain but death
Nor beyond nor before
We are born and live to die
Death the only gift of life

We fret; make noise, shout and cry
We skid from hills to valley and back
Get torn among home, work and friends
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life

We fight, we scream, we spurn
We step on each others’ toe
All to achieve and amass
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life

Walk we straight with pride
Look we people in the eye
Seldom do we stop and stoop
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life

We make friends, yet sly
Break hearts and water eyes
Too proud to bend or mend
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life

Each death promise another
Our last breath gives forth life
To another birth to die again
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life

Never can we live past in life
In death we reach the very start
From grains we come, to grains we go
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life

Submitted: Sunday, June 26, 2011
Edited: Monday, June 27, 2011

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Comments about this poem (Death - The Gift of Life by Thomas PJ New Delhi )

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  • Ace Of Black Hearts (6/27/2011 12:41:00 AM)

    This is excellent poem that describes life and death in the order in which claimed. Death is but a face with no name. (Report) Reply

  • Mohammad Akmal Nazir (6/27/2011 12:13:00 AM)

    Nice poem. I liked it. It was written well with great texture and imagery. I rated it 10.
    Thanks for sharing.....
    Kindly read and rate my poem 'A busy street' on page 1.
    Best regards
    Akmal (Report) Reply

Read all 2 comments »

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