For You Are Dead Now...
For you are dead now,
by Saheb Mohapatra
Seems my life a barren, old field,
With no joy and none to shield,
There's no reason I live; I show.
Each word of her, freighted with love,
Bringing smiles to sad lips,
In you when sweet spring shall dip,
From your voice, meager shall be great proverbs.
Oh no! God says you are ever lost,
I do believe, yet, I hope he maligns,
To me never with death shall you sign,
If the winter even woos not the frost.
When the hours do cold become and I lose you,
Shall soothe I myself before my left weeks be so few.