Mighty Death
O’ Death! Who can ‘ail’ thy ‘icy hands’?
Who canst challenge thy perpetual realm
Lingering over the oceans, vales, and sands?
Truth, like the insane humanity, thou dost not overwhelm,
Thou dost not forget thy duties and the eternal truth!
O’ Death! Who can ride thy mighty wings?
Thou alone canst fly with thy bulk so huge.
Thy shadow, the black herm, with herself brings
The call of eternal kingdom; thou with marred fuse!
Thou art the conspicuous truth; Death thou art eternal!
O’ Death! Thou dost die every moment
To be immortal in every ‘speaking monument’;
Death, thou art immortal and forever true;
Thou art the bliss soul passes through!
Alok Mishra
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 11:02 PM UTC
Mighty Death
O’ Death! Who can ‘ail’ thy ‘icy hands’?
Who canst challenge thy perpetual realm
Lingering over the oceans, vales, and sands?
Truth, like the insane humanity, thou dost not overwhelm,
Thou dost not forget thy duties and the eternal truth!
O’ Death! Who can ride thy mighty wings?
Thou alone canst fly with thy bulk so huge.
Thy shadow, the black herm, with herself brings
The call of eternal kingdom; thou with marred fuse!
Thou art the conspicuous truth; Death thou art eternal!
O’ Death! Thou dost die every moment
To be immortal in every ‘speaking monument’;
Death, thou art immortal and forever true;
Thou art the bliss soul passes through!
Alok Mishra
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