The Gravedigger's Companion Poem by nimal dunuhinga

Spinster night has a sweet voice like a teenager nurse on duty.
I like her transparency and hate the daytime.
There she whispers something,
'Brother! You too awake like me in this quiet atmosphere.
It's very hard to sleep in the day as the misers count money greedily and grumble isn't it?
You look so sad and tired these days and how many graves you dig today? '
'As usual, approximately ten to fifteen but I didn't feel tired sister.
Thanks for this cheap liquor that gives me the courage to fight forever.' I said.
'I understand your plight brother but try to find a kind partner and you can share your worries as she is a pain reliever.
I pray that one day a night flower touch your fragile heart secretly as she knows the language of darkness thoroughly.'

* I dedicate this poem to my helpless friend who's name is Poverty.