Monday, 25 March, 2013

Handful of Ashes

From dawn to dusk,
man runs,
collects matter.
Not a moment,
of peace,
of serenity.
And yet,
when death engulfs,
no escape.
Then and there,
empty hands,
six feet space,
burnt or buried,
a handful of ashes,
all remain.
Man runs,
from dawn to dusk.

6 After Thoughts:

Frankie Jay said...

Such a true reflection of the lives of quiet, hurried desperation so many lead. Why are we all in such a hurry?

The Write Girl said...

I love the insight and reflection on this poem. We should pause and take more time to enjoy the beauty that life has to offer.

Deepak said...

Frankie Jay: That's the question I'm also after. Thanks for the read.

The White Girl: Yes, exactly. Thanks for dropping by.

Sri Valli said...

Very deep and insightful poem Deepak!

Sunakshi said...

OMG!You still write that awesome.Cousin, share the secret please :D

Deepak said...

Sri Valli: Thanks dear for the read :)

Sunakshi: I don't think it's that awesome. It's so nice of you if you think so. Thanks for the read :)

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