On the bed
Tuesday,9th April 2019
on the bed
Unconscious and dead
With no alertness in the body
And preparing for the journey
Thousands of scorpions bite
And ignite
The burns within
It increases the pain
Words don't come out
And take care about
Death is certain
Only an end remains to be seen
Is this what I transpired?
Before the soul got expired
Will I be burnt with the body?
It is simple to guess of anybody
I shall be no more
With mortal remains gone
And emerged with an air
What shall then remain there?
This is destiny
Set by an almighty
That we remain unaware
And continue with an unfair game
Hasmukh Mehta
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem