Sunday, October 30, 2011

In Death

Not many will admit,
But to cease to exist,
Is a long cherished dream,
Much like death,
A subtler emotion expressing desperation,
Again, not many will admit,
A certain longing to be someplace else.
They say it’s cowardly to give up on life,
To cease to exist is the easy way out,
Easy for whom?
Inspiration has its failings too,
Now, Van Gogh would be an ideal,
But the world believes that death must come to you,
Only a neurotic mind would contemplate suicide,
But you aren’t neurotic, are you?
Yet...

2 comments:

aakash said...

Death is as much an irony as life is.
But then as I always feel, ignorance is bliss :)

aJ

Ismita Tandon said...

@Aakash...sure it is, poets are bron ignorant :)

Share Buttons