Look down
Six feet
into my open grave
My casket with no lid
no need to hide anymore
the corpse that was once me
but never really was.
death is an art...............and the grave the final stage....................
Funeral You left me in the rooms where Death alone smelt. I fear nothing in the darkness Save your absence. I am dead, motionless Without your love, grace, care. Longer than your fragrance Sweeter than your smile Hotter than your veins Death walks around me. I am dead, motionless Without your love, grace, care. I am buried in the wine yard Seven footsteps of yours Tears trickled down on my cheeks. Angel knocks at my grave And then a rain dropp oozed into my coffin. And drizzled me a secret It is raining on the grave. Love is my religion, love is my prophet, Love is my prayer and poetry is my beloved.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
death is an art.....and the grave final stage.............