The Funeral
At the funeral
The sky got moody and blushed within.
the sun and the moon bidded farewell.
Rythm of gloom and soberness.
At the funeral
Sparkling eyes embraced the colour
of the roses in scarlet.
Regrets and gnashing were those of
they who missed the call of love.
At the funeral
Men became toddlers with wailing and
tears of lost.
The hero of the day was the spirit that
looked in silence and weep for fellow
dead men.
At the funeral
A place were every nobody becomes a
somebody.
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