By Dhaatrey Kuricheti
Oh, to meet he
Who takes thee beyond mortality—
Into the land of the perished, the fallen,
For soon we will all be forgotten.
How happy I would be
To serve he eternally,
For I pity the living and envy the dead—
I shall lie still on my bed.
To know there's life after death,
Maybe I shall finally rest.
And as I draw my last breath,
I call this, my ode to death.