::- DEATH -::

It's for those,
Who imagine It were only imagination,
And when they meet with It there
Who fear to sleep again,
Who live within secure cells
And still who live under
It's shadow every moment;
Death is all the beautiful,
Enchanting, honest,
New,And chaste.

No one really knows,
And no one really will
How It comes,
How It feels.
After ages of invention and discovery
Which still remains a mystery,
And the only thing equal in all,
The poor,and rich, and ugly, and beautiful.

I say so,
And I dare believe,
It's death that makes you live
And makes life beautiful,
With it's remainder
To make you moving
For it's coming,
And then at last
With it's surprise visit,
And I trust
When it comes
You'll love it.

By-Vinod

--
regards: Vinod Jadhav