He sings the song of his wrecked heart in a soprano.
A song to all million's of hearts full of blood.
Here goes the song with death all around.
Eyes popped out into ever fading darkness.
Nasals stretched to hale the smell of death.
Ears magnified to hear nothing more to perfect silence.
I live in this final call of life called "Grave".
Amidst death all around, A gentle smile creeps in.
A Smile rooted recollecting the irony of life.
Everytime when i think of those moments with
blooded heart but still slept in graves.
The world witness a whole lot of crowd doing same each day.
Living in those numerous graves carved in thier minds.
An occupance of "Being great" creates a grave of "Ego"
An occupance of "counting millions" creates a grave of "numbers"
Being occupied with some creates grave in mind.
Being unoccupied creates space in mind.
Above is the transformation of complex thought process to simple truths.
I call it as the transformation from death to life.
Singing this aloud , I dive into sleep with these wishes.
Let's not die while we are alive.
Let those dead start to live.
Let all your graves explode.
Days passed and the song was sung all around.
The Creator thought of a lonely walk in a crowded street.
He heard a lot explosions with merry noises all though.
Explosions as a result of graves getting bombarded and shattered.
The toughest grave started to crack.
Something was just getting prepared to explode in the mind of creator.
Yes , The Grave.
The Grave called "Creator", The GOD.
ksheera
