It could be a cold wintry morn,
Or some corner of a dark moonless night,
When my soul will take flight,
Leaving a frail carcass behind !
And the heart, which had known
love, hatred, lust, and greed;
Felt forgiveness, sacrifice and compassion,
Shall once more turn bright red,
And burn in the crackling fire of the pyre
As I soar towards the million stars....
Which are God's graves in the depth of the skies;
Leaving behind my shadowy mark,
In my poems, verses and lines !
