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Click hereSometimes I sit and look
sometimes I just sit
but most often I remember
the lines of her form
Those eyes that peered
Sometimes she was
a wraith in My mind
often a thought
Did I dream of her and make her real
Souls speak and then entwine
logic says the body dies
becomes dust nothing remains
Save maggots eating the flesh
But when the ghats light up the river
and the smell of burning flesh lingers
in the air
at what time shall I be charred
will it be the golden Sun ,
My namesake that will light My pyre
or will the dankness of the Night ghouls
incinerate Me
Thoughts are flights
My soul shall be hers
as I gave it to her
Once and anon
for safe-keeping
My Namesake's duty ~ lighting the funeral pyre. Soon the return to ashes will began.