The Moment
You will be dead quite,
At the same instance when,
Your mind and heart will be reciting epics within you
You will be silent,
While your brain will be resonating,
With every word that you are desperate to utter.
You will be calm on the surface,
While a broken mess within,
Yearning to be fixed and made whole again.
Accepted!
You will be silent,
But that silence would be the one,
Which will speak a thousand volumes.
No,
It won't be you standing on the banks of the brook alone,
The other half of your soul would be beholding thou
From the other edge...
Because whatever our souls are made of,
His and mine are the same.
