Farewell Stroke Poem by Prayag Saikia
Farewell Stroke
By birth
I'm destined to take my ultimate rest
in a bed of pyre.
From the cortege
my painter-child will emerge
for his farewell stroke.
A sacred fire will chant
silent prayers for salvation.
Am I a born sinner,
or a trapped time,
in the net of ‘Maya'?
I explore every corner;
words pervade the air,
and unknowingly
I utter..... OM.
Tuesday, May 1, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: journey
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5/5/2024 10:11:43 PM # 1.0.0.1119
