By Nirja Raval
Tears , screams , prayers , emotions , hope , faith all this in just a word ,
Sad atmosphere and visions blurred.
With regrets and guilts people come and say all they wanted to tell you ,
" What's the point in telling it afterwards , when you lost your chance " as all this was never true.
People tell you things you expect when you used to live ,
You wanted flowers when you are alive and after dying they come and give.
They never know , where you'd be after your body is turned to Ash ,
You maybe up in heaven or lying near some trash.
Your soul wandering in the universe gazing down at them ,
Who were actually coals but acted as gems.
When you needed someone to talk , no one ever had time ,
And now after dying they tell " ahh , that's soo sad she was mine ".
You don't value unless and untill you loose ,
Expressing before or after is what you need to choose.
Flowers in the grave never satisfy the love one wished for ,
After dying do they even see how you're feeling ? That's not sure.
You'd give them all they wanted but after they die ,
At last you've nothing but to sit and cry .
What if they relish it still ; but they won't be there to relish that at present ,
As those are all memories now ,not the real moments .
Today's moments turn to tomorrow's memories ,
Everyone's there today , tomorrow all may leave.
You always know your firsts but you never know your lasts ,
You get your answers later , which were once asked.
There's nothing more than guilt you can hold ,
As the person's gone their story folds.
As they leave they see their entire life in replay ,
They speak all they wanted to ; once which they couldn't say .
Then theres only a flower on the grave and Ash on the ground ,
The persons existence and soul can again never be found .
Death is a bitter truth and life is a sweet lie ,
As all those who come ; HAVE TO DIE