Death

By Ritik Gautam

What if I'm dead?

Funeral — by the river’s edge,

hailstone-mourners — cordwood.

Is it salvation or perdition?

Death-faithed before life,

germinated seed to slow decay —

conversion for rue;

is mutation always for good?

In the hedgemaze of life,

four stages inexpugnable,

all run toward the same intent:

final destination — the grave.

‘Truth’ imbibed from nonage,

why only truth (Death) refute?

In the arch of existence,

is that man indeed wise?

By Ritik Gautam