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Being Black is Poetic - II



I see you in black, beautifully clad;
Near my body which has given away to the dark.
For once you came to see me last, I’m glad,
But to another world devoid of fancies, I embark.

Is it for paying homage that you wore black?
Or is it to relive those moments we both cradled!
They dressed me up in scented whites but not in black,
With white lily flowers and satin laced coffin, I lay cuddled.

Hymns rise along with the incense as prayers for me,
I see you eyeing me with unbearable pangs of strife.
Never regret that you are unable to find a replacement for me,
For I lived and craved for an ordinary life.

I’ll end up in purgatory, for all those heinous acts done;
Shoving aside the up-front choices of heaven and hell.
Remember that life is short and things done can’t be undone,
For I ended up in the altar, to witness my knell.




This post first appeared on Service Unavailable, please read the originial post: here

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Being Black is Poetic - II

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