Death has sent me a missive of arrival
And I have drop'd whole stuff 'gainst sinking down;
But how to rise to heaven though 'robed off' all
My mind being heavy with your curses thrown?
'So on me lie the heaps of guilt and shame
If I've err'd you with my misdeed and gaffe,
That I'll consign me to immolative flame
By whipping me in persecution of self!
I'm stewing like fluid on a burning stove
Lest my ignorance has distress'd your being;
Forgiveness, as lone 'course does behove,
Will rid me of the burden of unwise sin!
Wont rest in Heaven my soul if died tomorrow!
Forgive me now, for I mayn't see the morrow!!
-- N P Samal
Comments
Post a Comment