By Vittala Chaithanya N M
Death, a Reality
An enigma, unexplained;
Some say the soul departs—
This body, few bury it,
few burn it, others return it to life.
Life, death, life again—
A belief, as many believe,
A pursuit we seek yet cannot grasp,
Bound by the limits of human eyes.
All the ego, all the hate,
All the love, and all the grief—
On the pyre, we all burn;
Ashes to dust, or sealed in coffins,
we hammer our thoughts, sharp nails.
Life—a fragile bubble, as wise men say.
I, the fool, dare to say no.
Yet, I live more than I ever know,
In this fleeting body of stardust.
I smile, I cry, I paint my tales,
Weaving stories, crafting sagas.
One day, one night, my heart will halt—
I know. But life flows forward still.
A speck of stardust here, there,
I choose to live on in others;
Through my words, my soul takes flight,
Forever etched in hearts alight.
By Vittala Chaithanya N M
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