A Beautiful Imagination
Death is the mother of beauty
must be true
Let my imaginations fly high
over
This wall of death to see the other side.
My heart may not be twisted
in the hands of time
Nor has to drop down from
some unknown sky
Like helpless willow tree to be
played by storm.
There won't be any life with
meaningless
Questions to catch my ear for
each asking.
The death may give me birth,
after which
I may not have to wear
honesty to look at others.
It must be so, Death,
what I deserve, the mother of
beauty
For this newness in everything
lures me
Like a mother into her gentle-most lap.
Death is the mother of beauty
must be true
Let my imaginations fly high
over
This wall of death to see the other side.
My heart may not be twisted
in the hands of time
Nor has to drop down from
some unknown sky
Like helpless willow tree to be
played by storm.
There won't be any life with
meaningless
Questions to catch my ear for
each asking.
The death may give me birth,
after which
I may not have to wear
honesty to look at others.
It must be so, Death,
what I deserve, the mother of
beauty
For this newness in everything
lures me
Like a mother into her gentle-most lap.
Omkar Hosalli
English Language Teacher
Government Adarsha Vidyalaya Aurad (B)
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