My Whims… Poem by Jiya Acharya

Somebody take her to grave
‘Am still naive
Vicissitudes all in grey
The need is gone
The urge so on
Want to lay there
As ‘am now
With no whims of joys and sorrows
The identity of being anonymous
Where, the world of famous lay far behind
That solitary world
I was made to love
So calm and sound, with none around
The flashes of happy memoirs, hunt me down.
The haggles of present life, will be far gone
Where death; lay serene to me, astride
Only the parson off humans will decide
The fate of mine.
The time will pass
My soul'll be off past
free and liberated
To the worlds of knights