Mortality Transcended

Staging the abyss of an impending cessation

The dark expanse lays stretched across

And beneath, in its surreptitious labyrinths

Lay white dreams to unravel, in time, lost

Under this glittering montage of departed souls

Lies a troubled night, in hand, a palette it bears

Whether a plaintive hue should grace the occasion

Or an ebullient serenade, the birds shall hear

The very earth, where countless crimson streams hath flowed

Withholds a pungent smell, which the rains shall release

And it gazes impassive, into the void

Awaiting the faltering steps that shall forever cease

And vestiges of times, the trees, they sway

Casting queer shadows in the placid waters below

And the ghostly gushes, the leaves, they tug

Reverring the end, bow in a vaudevillian show

And silence reverberates across the woods

Strings of the harp, wildly they swing

And the invisible hand twitches them to its insatiable thirst

Into the endless night, silent melodies it sings

Dancing to the minstrelsy exhibition

Struck by the virulent, a red leaf alone it spins

The dampened wind materializes, glides along

With a picturesque elegance, to its deathbed, it brings

And with this servitude of wind, nature has toyed around

Of countless summers with it, had dreamt

And though it lies in its cold, wintry grave

For a vivifying spring, the duel begins

And as it lies trampled, a votive

Cherishing the last marks of the wind it shall entail

A man, none brighter than the mist around

Dawdles forward, facing the vestibule of his mundane fate

With a perpetual stoop, the timeless wonder

A paradigm of an immaculate creation perfected by age

And this derelict entity, with dipping eyebrows

Limps along into the ubiquitous haze

And this crude parody of child

Moulded and crafted by the sands of time

Marks the finale of His greatest creation

As the crying infant rings the opening chime

The few strands of hair, they humble the infanceness

The folds of skin hang loose

And the staff handles his feathery weight

Boundless patience, with prudent steps he moves

Sans tooth and blind, deprived of sounds he is

He craves for the innocent chuckle of a newborn

And its ethereal touch that shall span generations

Shall light the moribund, for the new morn

The weight of his past closes his eyes, tears glisten

He remembers the touch of his mother's bosom

And the lullabies she sang, sleepless nights

Pages of his memoirs lay blotten

And the feel of the grass, on the verdant landscape

The sun gliding upon the waters, sweet summer afternoon

And the open seas mocking it with a ripple

And the shrubs wave beside some kingdom's ruins

The birds romancing their way through the canopies

The butterflies find their way through flowery drowsiness

And the eyes of his love that he used to behold

And her hand on top of his that used to rest

His decrepit limbs, he trudges along

The stars shimmer above, light up the way

Fulfilling the tryst, with open arms, he embraces Death

The sweet memory of her love fades

And far away, into the distance

A dawn blossoms, rises up the shores

And a young one laughs, greets the despondent night

Shaking his clenched fists, catches the dreams that soar

-Archit