Six hours by coach to reach a City State;

Knots of people queue to pass through the gate.

Received news about her passing away;

Return trip in torrent by the causeway.


Kids were curious why good people died;

Needed rest, made way for young to reside.

They would rise to paradise or reborn.

I could not lie, and replies were outworn.


Believers were certain before their death;

I had problem focusing my last breath.

We all do not wish to die too early;

We need balm to soothe itch that are eerie.


Death lurks in the dark, capture unguarded;

We fear our own shadows, turn bigoted.




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