Death is a mystic
Death is a mystic whom everyone knows
and everyone knows not too
but certainly, death will for you one day come
Walking in from nowhere or when expected least
and walking away when expected most
wanted or unwanted its entry is for sure
Some are scared, some are not
Some are there who want to dare
Some others out there prefer not to talk
Some die on their beds, at home
some die in faraway lands unknown
Some on the sands, some on the shores
Some in the water or in the skies
some on the rocks, others die doing their jobs
But all die that's for certain and sure
After death, the rituals, the mourning and all
then the corpse is buried or burned
the crowd will disperse and dissolve
but the memories linger to deliver pain
The near and dear will live on
with flashes and fragments of memories of the gone
slowly as the time passes on
The person departed and all the memories are gone
the muted past a vague memory
hazy remembrances of the departed soul
buried in the sands of time
washed by the waves of the present times
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