They were crushed in the sky,
There were their funeral,
In the floating clouds.
Their ashes are flying,
Like that jet plane,
But the difference is that,
They have no more fear,
To be crushed, or burnt.
They are now the blue sky.
Were they afraid of death?
Were they crying out to live?
Were they being shocked?
Were the Saying us goodbye?
These questions have no answers.
May be we will never get the answers.
Because the sky can't speak to us!
Only can love us under his giant shade!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
life is riddled with question to which death has no answer...they just remain....unanswered for ever!