Photo by Marek Piwnicki on Unsplash
An Ode to Death
1 min read
Sad. Of course,
I know there come the days,
when from dusk to dawn, one shall see but only one.
Mother calls it the “days of Awakening”,
Never have I thought, they would come, on the brink of sunrise.
Why not yesterday? the day before we were born.
Perhaps, the day before yesterday?
When the light at the end of our tunnels, shone in flair, only the colors of the tunnel itself.
The only color familiar only to the blind man.
days when ignorance and ear cost us a pound of flesh.
But through crowds and countries, we have fought.
A battle for every man,
that he may forge, the life he wishes.
And on the brisk of dawn,
you steal him away.
And who dares question you?
What does the mother hen say to the eagle?
That’s all we can say too.