Impertinent Death

Lingering by the shadows,
Giving fear to all,
Making one fall,
Every day you come and go,
Taking life at a go.

To heaven or hell you decide,
No one knows where you reside,
Some say it is an eternal sleep,
While other's stay behind and weep.

An ominous surrounding around death's bed,
As men and women clad in black circumjacent,
No voice raised out loud,
As children and elders pray to the profound.

For each one know's not,
What lies beyond this curtain of life,
For each one wonder's,
About the death looming over one's head.

As the black sceptre encroaches,
Staying above one's shoulder's
By a thread that's ready to snap,
Alas without a moments word.

 The weeping one's stay behind,
With reminiscent thought's in their eyes,
For they have lost a person close to them,
A beloved father, mother or friend,
A relative that was close at hand.

Death a being of tragedy,
But hopeful prayers follow as a devotee,
To the one that passed away,
For a better life for their way.

Update #4: Ravages Of Time

Time.... A great spectrum of undefined vastness. Every being lives in it, goes by its flow and submerges into it. People get by day to day without realising and ravishing the beauty called time. As each second passes by, as each moment drifts off, one does not simply realize the essence that is lost forever. People always say that there is time, I will do this or that tomorrow, I  have plenty of time, when they do not realize that they never are the sole governors of time. Time is a sovereign that puts its law in front of us, abide and be successful, ignore and get into the infinite loop of maya (illusion). The world is said to be an illusion, it is especially true for the procrastinators for they do not see the world for what it truly is. They go day by day postponing things that had to be done at moments where it was essential, and ultimately fail to realize and do so.

Time.... It passes by us like a leaf on a stream of water, gentle and ever flowing but once it passes by us you never get that opportunity to catch by it again. My Geography teacher had once told me "Time and Tide once lost can never be with again". It is a profound aspect of mystery that he shared with me that day. I had gone into a in depth study of time at that moment and realised that yes, what he said is true. Time is a aspect that takes away one's innocence, ravages past your feelings, make's you grow and then ultimately merges you with earth. Time always show you the truth, be it now or 10 or 50 years later, time always tell the truth. The beat of a wing by the butterfly or giving birth to your child or sending your daughter away in marriage may be the most beautiful thing that you may have witnessed but do think what if you were not there at that moment, what if you could never have been part of that essence.

Time.... An infinite mystery there within. We perceive time in our standards, our measurements and to our liking. We perceive time as the sun and moon revolves. We start to perceive them from birth to death. But in any moment have you stopped to think, what is time, what it has done to you?
So now stop for a moment and take this brain storm session to the peak by thinking how you can ultimately manage this limited amount of time you have , in comparison to the vast amount of your ancestors or future generation. Think how meaningful you can make your life. How much you can enjoy the essence of beauty that surrounds you.

If you guys ever want to have an in depth conversation with me regarding life or my poetry please do contact dstriker2654@gmail.com

100 Faces

The man with 100 faces,
Passes through the town in a daze,
As people enquire about thee,
Will they find no history.

The face changes time to time,
Situations arise and subside,
No one knows your true face,
Or your murderous gaze.

Fickle or sweet thy decide,
As he changes his face,
Like a scene from a dream,
Fast and ever changing is his face.

A sneer behind that infamous mask,
Plotting for the next act,
Smiling and deceptive at all times,
Until the tiger has pounced and attacked.

Sweet you may feel he is,
Soft hearted you may say,
When truly frozen is he,
Iced from head to toe.

It as hardships thy say,
That changed him into the beast,
But pray tell innocence,
Are thou a simple being mutated.

As the 100 faces he possess,
Turn around and escape thy wonder,
Is it a poor soul or a vicious beast,
Behind this sweet mask that he possess.