Journey Of My Life: A Poetry

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Is your journey going well?

So dear lovely readers,
Hope you are doing well.. This day literally seems like, this is about journey, the journey of life, which has to come to an end someday and all our wishes have to die with this body. This short poetry is about how we turn helpless once this body leaves our soul. We even don’t have the right to choose the colour of our shroud.
And most importantly, this poetry is not just about our helplessness but also an imagination of that another world and its beauty. It is an imagination of how this world would look from let’s see the whole image through these lines..

Journey of life is a lonely path full of aloneness
PC: Pixabay _image

Here This Journey Goes

Sometimes, I wonder how beautiful it would be to be dead..
Perhaps I won’t be seen in this soft bed anymore in the morning,
Perhaps I won’t be felt by those green grasses looking my way anymore in the evening,
But I’ll see the unseen peace of this world captured under my eyelids and I… I’ll be free to choose the picture, I wish to see from my captured collection.

Sometimes, I wonder how lovely it would be to see my people trying to keep me alive..
In their memories, in their dreams, in their world, in their journey.
Perhaps I won’t come to wipe their tears,
Perhaps I won’t hold them tight to feel me,
But my smile in their memories will soothe their heart
And my dreams will never let them go apart.

Sometimes, I wonder how colourful that world would be..
Which no one has ever seen,
No one has ever felt.
Perhaps the colour of this world was mine,
Perhaps my art in this world would die,
But that would be different.
And there, it would be absolutely apparent.

Sometimes, I wonder how elegant it would be to lie on a flower bed..
And it would be nothing but the watery love that they would shed.
Sometimes, I wonder how beautiful it would be to be dead..
Perhaps I will miss this soft bed,
Perhaps I will wish my shroud to be red,
But no..white would be my destiny,
As all of my journey, I have been craving for peace
So it has to be awarded to a body which is dead.

What I have been gifted with,
During all this journey of mine..
Is as glaring as a star,
Which would never loose its shine.

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