Let your two hands be the wing;
To carry me, whenever you sing;
At the hyped shelter of highness;
On a journey to eternal dimness;
My own pale lips unfit for a prayer;
Body, being called upon to his care;
May the drops under your blue eye;
Do not shed a tear of a good bye!
A song of a death is a cry for a birth;
Avail a plot to lie down in this earth !
*
BY
WILLIAMSJI MAVELI
williamsji@yahoo.com
www.williamsji.com
www.williamsgeorge­.com
www.microthemes.com