In line with the Shakespearen tradition, I wrote this Sonnet 3 years back. A praise to Death. With a capital D, of course.
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The one above, the one beneath, you are,
And forward, backwards, everywhere you lie,
For now I'm here, but later, I'll be far
The ends are hopeless, drenched in them we cry.
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We’re humble at your door, we hear your steps,
But many of us die unlighted, deaf,
The masters of the world do see the gaps,
The end of play is ruled by noble ref.
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Ignorant ones do always curse this pit,
The wiser ones are yet to know your leads,
On your fine timing are our lives now lit,
Your gloomy, weedy deed’s a graceful need.
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Oh, darkest beauty of the ageless world,
I’ll visit you one day, happy, unlured.
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