Deathly contemplations

Do not weep beside my death-bed,
I am not dead, I am just asleep.
And do not wait for me while I’m in slumber,
I am not asleep, I am just dead.

Do not think of me when I’m alive,
But do not forget me for my deeds.
And do not forget me when I’m gone,
But do not remember me for my sins.

Was it you who sat beside me in my weakest of days?
How did I sound?

Was it you under the sheets with me at night?
How was it?

And was it you in the end
that covered me up with white sheets?
What happened?

How did I look?


If only I had known

I was dancing with my loved interest too long that I didn’t realize she was already dead. If only I had known.

fizzyfiiz (Dancing with the dead)

The lady who was made love to in death.

“The lady ¬†who was made love to in death”


The water got so cold.

Men threw her after a love which she thought was so tender. Lady cold drowned in the frosty blue and they left her behind.

The wild beast that saw the pale body lying by the shore. He could not control himself. While there was no warmth in Lady cold, he felt the need to do so.

“Tell me how does it feel to make love with an object of no soul? Does that satisfy your spot of hunger? Think of this lady who has gone through enough” said the reeds and the rushes as they tried to protect her. Lady cold suddenly became an object of consumption. The beauty stayed behind for that day before it was taken away a day after.

No one looked for her.

Who was Lady cold before this?

What has she done wrong?

… and soul. So long

And soul So long

We are all kept in balance; our body, mind and soul. In the process of identity exploration, we lose ourselves from either being selfish or being in a position to choose one thing from another. We die along the journey without knowing it. I’ve died a couple of times. Unfortunately, I survived. The fear of what’s to come in the future keeps me grounded even with the spirits and hopes that I endlessly speak of.

They talk about renewal and revive under circumstances but I do not see that. I see a weakened soul being battered in reality.

Friendly faces come and go

sketch 21

Friendly faces come and go,

They rose from the ground as if it were meant for me.

I can recall how a certain conversation was lost

under the creeping snowline.

I almost died during winter,

almost, unfortunately.

Do you remember staring at the stars?

and how it was flickering brightly?

I’ll see you again my friend,

from the skies above you.


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