By Satyananda Sarangi
Shall time remember me when the earth no more spins
About its axis; and stop to think how my years went
Without faith in ethereal events I saw?
Will it be then tolerant to souls once hell-bent
On unfledged self-belief and impervious
To the celestial beauty of sacred things?
Will it forgive the spirit of unseasoned mouths
Stamping one's devotion as maudlin offerings?
Will Truth stay by a stolid soul if trials killed
His accolades one by one; if compunction led
The funeral march of all festive days or Fate
Applauded the crestfallen voices in his head?
Grace won't turn a blind eye to such awakenings
And see endurance exhausted to the end.
But can death dare set its prying eyes on such zeal
Found only when there's not a helping hand to lend?
So, if time remembers not when to stop and think,
I’ll presume to have lived my life in a blink.