The Squandered Life
An angel came out of a split atom as the trumpet sounded
by Swamidhason Francis
A grand throne came down from Heaven for him to be mounted;
Air was sucked out of me; my senses lost contact with me
My eyes closed and like lightening, light was taken off me;
Breath left my lungs and flew like a wingless bird
Wreaths were placed by my kith and kin without any word;
I felt it queer and they began to swear affirming faith in God,
Leaving my mortal remains within the coffined grave like sod;
An eternal chill engulfed me; it was cold; it was dark;
I saw them mourning first but forgetting next as if I were a dry bark;
He was good, one said; God takes away the good to be with Him,
He could’ve lived long, had he not longed for the wrong one to be with him;
She ditched him when he required her love, a detestable bitch
Another one sketched out tales of her in a tone raised in pitch.
On flowers without bees and showers without water I lay there
Unseen by them all, but seeing them without eyes; I lay there.
Unheard ditties of requiem reminded me of a life squandered
As centuries elapsed like seconds life there moved on unhindered.