Our death is not the first one of its kind,
It's not our first death,
Many minor deaths happened before.
...
Darkie noon meddled up with sky
Lonely hearts soaring up with eyes
Bits that swam by felt and sneered
Had not turned the pages filled
...
In God's Own Country where beauty thrives,
A lady Dr. with dreams alive,
Her heart so pure, her spirit bright,
A beacon of hope, a guiding light.
...
In silent halls, where shadows play,
Loneliness creeps in, night and day.
A solitary figure, lost in space,
Searching for connection, a gentle face.
...
Minor Deaths
Our death is not the first one of its kind,
It's not our first death,
Many minor deaths happened before.
The removed nipple gave
The baby's lips a miniature death.
The first teacher gave a few deaths with fear and frenzy.
The boss burst bits of deaths.
The life partner lift the lid of the heart,
And let a dearer one settle there,
Sure the pure bond melted into deaths.
The wards gave lives and merry
Which soon gave way to deaths of ignore and isolation.
The grand children maximized the merry,
But doubled the deaths even.
The ailments, the hospital
At last the great death,
Culmination of all deaths.