Jan 082013
 

When one dies
Languages cease
We hear the crickets in the twilight
The audit of miscalculations begin
We set out on a futile journey through hypothetical trails

When one dies
the parallel paths end on the tied toes
words of solace go out of sight and the way looks deserted
at distance the tree tops looks like masked time watchers

When one dies
a poem gets deconstructed
a book reaches the reader
an open ended novel gets multiple interpretations
a horoscope loses its business scope

When one dies
a mere bubble gets silently dissolved into a vast lake
When one dies, perhaps,
a turd by the road goes dry and is lost in the soil.

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