Thoughts Of A Moribund

There’s so much in world I’ve never seen,

So engrossed in materials I’d always been;

If dead, I’d never see the sun again,

The garden I worked on, will go in vain.

If I turn the pages of my life now,

Few dears may shed a sorry tear;

But have I earned a name above?

If ‘ yes’ I say, I am a liar.

Far more my sins, far more they are,

Than all the stars of the firmament;

Years ahead I have, I thought for,

Never did I kneel to repent.

Aches my heart to think it’s been,

A selfish life of pride, attitude and lust,

I wilt, I wave, I weep unseen,

What if I now hit the dust?

Ashamed I am of a life so mean,

Rich of rotten rubbish and rust;

Time is lean and I have to clean,

Fore I wither, fore I burst.

Every soul sure has it’s harvest,

Good or bad he has to reap;

Worst or best, the reward is must,

Before or after his dreamless sleep.

A day of course we have to rest,

In a seven feet bed, great or meek;

And still, why do we quest?

Power or self, why do we seek?

The world’s a library and men are books.

A book has an end but was it good?

Fame, fortune and lovely looks,

They travel not beneath the mud.

So, let the blow be far or mean,

Yes, I’ve got in time the message;

Even if it’s just a year,

I’ll live it as a sage.

The journey may be short or long,

But was it for a worthy cause?

And thus, goes the wisemen’s song-

It matters how, and not how long it was.

And after death, I wish I may be reborn again,

In a world, far from the world of pain;

And may I die once more, Oh Lord!

In the peaceful beauty of a lover’s arms.