Soon
Soon I, the being that appears to be one will divide
Soul, an invisible myth, and the piece called corpse.
Then what?
I see no answer and none of what I have read, heard
The words of preachers do not satisfy.
Then what?
I am lost as have been
For the longest time
From my time as child.
Therefore
I am as dumb as I was.
What is fuss?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You raised the eternal question in a lucid poetic form. Thank you for sharing Nassy, Tushar