Mrityorma` amritam gamaya

Unable to reach out
with arms wide spread
words escaping mouth
uttered for the benefit of ears
his own ears
no one can listen
no one can see
no one is around
it is cold and desolate
not a blade of grass
barren landscape
air is too thin to breath
sun is too hot to bear
wind is cold and bitter
his is the only soul
for miles and miles
he cries, nothing happens
he wails in horror
he screams in agony
he howls a blood curdling howl
he sings to the envy of nightingale
he laughs like the jester
he weeps like the hero
of the great tragedy
nothing happens
no one reaches out
no one says a soothing word
no one is amused
no one is around
his is perfect solitude

he wishes he was dead
he wants reprieve
he wants life
but his is perfect life
and he is banished for eternity
for he cannot be killed
for he cannot die
Mrityorma` amritam gamaya
--
~asto' ma sat gamaya