Death, My Old Lover

By Siddhant Arora 

Bare feet,
walking upon the grave,
wind — silent killer,
counting last blows of air.

Tombstone ready with name,
about to fade away like
billions already have before me.
Life will again beg at feet of death.

Bare feet,
walking upon the grave.
Show me the love life never had —
death shall remain forever mine.

I’ll let go of life
with open hands,
kiss death with naked lips,
whispering, lovely to see my old lover back.