The death god had arrived and left me alone
Again
He is certain and He is cruel
Always hell-bent on taking
A sure snatcher, he is
detested for his virtue but
Never discriminate babies from adult to old
I’m left alone with a mere name,
a long history, and some faded conversations
People around me remember other gods
Gods who are supposed to keep us alive
Partly in fear of dying, partly in faith bordering on blind
I can never know who is playing the game
God or people
Even after death I pay the money to priests
So that the dead one can have safe travel to the other world
I feed the people,
So that all who feasts can take away the feast memories of the gone
but the one who is gone is gone
I feed knowing the fact the known witch ‘poverty’ is lurking behind,
in the form of pot bellied money lenders,
to rip me apart as soon as feast is over
I am sad
They are never going to see what had been done for them
If they sits atop this world, as I have been told,
They may feel jealous of the feast and laugh
To be treated special like this
One must kiss the death
Blessings, dreams and hope get destroyed
this pet sentence ‘Everything will be alright’
will come rescue some of the people.
Loss, as they say, can’t be summed up in words
words, as usual, serve as mere fillers
for people to show their compassion and care.
Old fallout find a reason to come together to cry
but who can know how true were the tears
Even then death is a mean to connect with other fellow humans
and chance for some transformation
I wonder why such a certain god got a bad rapport
But then who wants to lose
