Binoy Barman

(May 14,1969 / Narayanganj)

My Death


My death never comes to me
I do not see my death, you see
My death is not any event in my life
As I do not live to experience it
Gradually I bog down in gloom
Lying in a room brilliantly lit
You witness when I breathe my last
How glee fades into despair fast
Dust hovers in melancholic air
Shadow weeps in clandestine care
When vapours of tear perish into cloud
Nothingness sings aloud
My death is not mine
My death is yours
You carry the corpse of my memory
When I am free.

Submitted: Wednesday, August 25, 2010
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  • Richard Jarboe (8/25/2010 6:03:00 AM)

    life is one big middle. we don't remember being born or dying. Only stuff in the middle, good one,
    ric (Report) Reply

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