Tag: Grief

Your Promises

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

All of your promises have a shelf life.
There is no chance any of them shall stick.
You speak them to merely stop present strife;
Once that is done, their purpose seeks death quick.

Your promises are very lightly made.
You do not think of them as forever.
They are fake light that only causes shade,
Without the wherewithal to endeavour.

I wish you understood what vows must be;
They are the parents of hope and trust;
Your mind can’t grasp what it cannot see;
And all we end up with is useless dust.

I know this now and all my hope lies dead;
There is nothing now to be heard or said.

Thinking Of You

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

…keep thinking of you…
I don’t regret that you have left.
It’s just the way you did.

It’s not that I am bereft.
It’s not that I didn’t try.

It’s just that I was dying
And you, actually, did die.

Death by O2

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

The pyres have been lit;
Like warning beacons, I say;
Yellow fire, on broken wood,
Wherein COVID victims lay.

They are wrapped in plastic;
No loved ones, no flowers;
Tired strangers have lit the fires,
They’ll burn but for a few hours.

“Sadgati!” Bhakts say, “not peace!”
They ignore the dead who died,
They replace love with hate,
They worship those who lied.

The pyres have been lit.
No oxygen brought their death.
Bodies light up like lanterns,
They were denied their last breath!

The gods must yet be appeased;
So rallies and melas abound;
We wait for the third phase now;
And the count of pyres in the coming round.