Early deadline of Wingword Poetry Prize coming soon. Submit your poems now!

Death Looks Like

Rohit Pannu

Sleeping in her coffin
No not sleeping, dead....
But defying all the beauties
Of the mortal world.
Cold she is, cold but beautiful
The night after people
will mourn for her
and shed the false tears,
show their sympathy
seeing her beautiful face
but in reality her face painted,
Using makeup
Made up
layers of makeup,
To cover the bruised bad
Cold and pale and
Blue body and face.
To look beautiful
at her own funeral.
Below that there she is,
but she is not there.
The left is only her rotten body
with her jaw sewed,
eyeballs taken out.
Inside her red gown,
body ripped apart,
only to be stitched later
using staples.
Hollow inside
only exist nothingness.
Nothingness,
They say, She's in heaven.
How do they know,
Can be in hell,
Or just into some void
Where exists,
Nothingness.
Her painted beauty,
Non of that made up beauty
Reaches her after.
After she left her body
To wander the world or
Heaven or hell
Or some void.
No Bible knew
No Bible "sew"
To comfort the human agony.
Of death.
And passing to nothingness.
The white lilies
are not just for the decoration,
but to neutralize
the rotting smell of her flesh.
"For Everyone of us
living in this world
Means waiting for our end"
Is this the end...?
Resting,
Resting in peace,
They say.....


Leave a comment