Man is Immortal

...And you dare to dream of dying in your room,
Taking a puff after a heavy meal without knowing they are your last,
Then, suddenly! grabbing your left arm
Hitting your head first to your desk and then to your hard floor,
Your arms twitching for a second and in a disturbing position frozen
Your eyes looking ad infinitum…
And people from every officiality
Will come looking in that fort of yours,
Scrutinizing everything and
Finding evidence for your cause of collapse;
And people who know you will come too,
Aiming for something else though:
Their memories will start to wilt into a morbid lump of goodwill –
Your being will be butchered down to a perfect doll;
Your figure will be etched on heavens,
Shining like a sedated golden bull.
You were a good man.
A perfect one.
It will be the first and the last time your name will be
Uttered literally and mentally
This well and this many.

Savor it.

Come on!

Die already!..

a small metaphor

when I am sad
I get mad, and I crack
the earth around me;
I become an island,
of only two feet, a land
and across I watch
the world passing by
very slowly.