(Un)Heard Melodies

By Ajjarapu Neeharika

Life, an unfinished song.

Soul, leaves the body with the ring of a gong.

Birth to death, the sojourner strays.

Each path walked is astray in its ways.

This derangement is the cosmic arrangement.    

An entanglement of love and loss.

The engagement of lives and lies.

Hearts and thoughts may sink,

but the emotional purgation paints the life, 

Cherry pink.    

Laugh or scream,     

a green bough or a stream,

a rainbow or a gleam,

shall pass the prime, 

will reach the grime.

No one's song is finished.

Heard by all, without self satiation.

Heard by none at all, with whole contention.

In all means, death is a cessation.

Because, life is an unfinished song.

By Ajjarapu Neeharika