The Death Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

My feet crumbled
Eye sight was about to fade
I failed to rise self at once
There was no need to try for another chance

It was, as I feared, last call
Life stood in between as wall
Whole of journey reminded me about existence
I was lying in bed as defeated one

Yes I saw autumn was round the corner
The old leaves were falling near
There was no fun in sticking to branch
The time was about to be over as such

I did not feel sad and worried
Only time was to be hurried
I did not want to suffer any more
I had read about it from book store

The death god was to be seen
What will be the real scene like?
I slipped into deep thought
Remembered an almighty with earnest

I felt slipping still deeper
The breath was getting louder and louder
I was going fast away
“Call doctor, call doctor” others were chanting normal way