Hari Smith Holms

The ash will stay
as residue,
neither I can stop,
nor anyone of you.
Our home will be
filled with laughter,
where I'll be
not near
or far!
Ah! if there is,
another world,
between life-death,
cleverly furled,
it's no use of
our dreams' desires.
How could we feel,
our love and fires?
Our body links us
with thing cherished.
What for we cry,
if get perished?
To destroy all,
our longing, lust,
we come to go.
only soul does last.