In corporeal terms
The charred mortal remains looked
As a bundle of burnt wood.
Feelings of woe,neither owed nor owned,
Fixed the issue as closed.
Truth stood incinerated.
There was no submission of faith
Either uxorious or filial.
When the mind turns into a morgue,
Passing away becomes more a prerogative
Than being born.
That one can choose one's funeral,
At the behest of one's conjugal blues,
Labels the better half as a badger
Beside and from behind.
Here, the bereaved husband
Sang his ready made fake requiem,
Lamenting the loss of some one
He hardly ever tried to love.
P.Chandrasekaran.
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