Death Could Never Be So Easy.

By Navendu Krishna Pathak

I was the one, I am the one, always troubled,

People laugh off their pain, mine is only just doubled.

I still do not know why I love the dead,

My thoughts are violent, and my eyes are red.

I love my death besides my life,

When to die, how to die, my thoughts strive.

Everyday gives me new opportunities,

To go beyond what’s real, towards the infinities.

Taking a step forward, my heart comes into play,

Thinking of the world, the people, I stay another day.

I hate who I am, and I want to die,

Every day, every night, every second I cry.

As what I see is a different thing,

The problem is my existence, my simple being.

Now, my soul is dead, and my heart is dead,

And my brain is working as piece of lead.

My bones are hollow, and breath is no more greasy,

Laid down on the ground I have this feeling,

That death could never be so easy.

If I would’ve burnt all the memories,

I would not be sad.

But like everyone, I too thought them to be precious,

And I am not glad.

Cause I ran free, when I was a child,

World for me was gentle and mild.

But as I grew above my age,

I found the world its way and wild.

Happiness was singular here and sorrow plural,

Snatching away your love and stealing your morals.

Outside the door, your minds are mended,

Killing your smile and sadness lend-ed.

This world is full of cheats and thugs,

Their brain is fumed and filled with drugs.

But don’t you fear to enter this hell,

Cause inside or outside, you die in rugs.

Who cares for me? They are always so busy,

My tears; they fall again,

And death my friend, could never be so easy.

For all those, who are a part of this automation,

You did as wrong as you could do, but He is waiting.

So go my foe, go kill and fight,

What is fate to you, and what is might?

Death wants blood, go feed her diet.

Today I know that when I was born,

A heart was saddened, a heart was torn.

A heart that felt all pain and odds,

That heart my friend was mighty God’s.

That heart was crying for the sin he did,

Another crime, another fraud.

Mourning the pain that he will give,

As soon as I was born, as long as I live.

However, life is long, and death is lazy,

And that heart whispered to me,

‘Death my dear could never be so easy’.

By Navendu Krishna Pathak