Death is our homeA Poem by Pragya VishnoiDeath is our home Free from pretence Free from hopes and expectations. It does not judge us by our looks or status, neither by our wits not by our talents; It simply accepts us not even asking Who we are or Where we're from. Living death is like roaming in the tranquil space, faraway from the false and imitated moonlight reflected by mirage of the world. Death is a home free from all cunning manipulations; it's so simple -with a flow of its own. It never leaves us, never ever forgets us- like a good old friend- even in the face of adversity. Death is beautiful- it has its own unique charm. It is so pure- untouched by any worldly pollutant; and above all: It is the place where we can return after the long tiring journey of practical life, and sleep peacefully in its cozy bed,saying "DEATH IS OUR HOME"
© 2015 Pragya Vishnoi |
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