Death is not precious at all - 
Nor the beauty of cold flesh,
Nor the fog of dust and ash,
But snow of memories, that pall
Your mislaid soul
With ardent sparkles" heating kisses
Of mournful, wistful heart, that misses
Someone kin... and now that"s sole..
This is our human dole
And nothing to be done...
So why are chemistries so bare?
Sorrowful...but can you dare
To ween now they all are gone?
Now they"re released, they"re free,
But pain remains beneath
And grief is filling humans" breath,
And they believe their vapid dreams,
With blirt of doom they cover their fears,
Wailing over dead with tears
Of pain, mercy, love and ruth.
They mask the dread of being sole,
Lack of confidence and being up the pole - 
And that"s the only truth!
What are these gravestones
And monuments on glebe
Of sacred shrines, where idols creep?
Amid the silent graves why do they moan?
But if we smash this teary prism
We may see the scar of death,
Sculptures wail of hellish wrath - 
Angels of sweet egoism..!