Man Dies Poem by Ananya Guha

the chair angular look
the table plain but useful
the room ghost's prey
the hall, foreboding sullen
each is a man, animal
in midst of this there is refinement
table talk and coffee babble

till the chair falls
the table erodes
the hall crumbles
and
man dies

are they used for funerals?
no coffins are
are they used as man's memoirs, bibliography
yes
man dies
they are man's definitive symbols
man's wealth, and his tiny breathing space
the chair is comfortable
the table elegant
the hall silent, sad
man dies.