ODE FOR DEATH


Her hair no longer slipping in that old chair

broken and branched follow the contours of the palm

the skin was flushed webbed the wood fuse

dreamy eyes smile adorned Loranthus

Thou knows the memories never as sharp as used to do

so paint it with rosy and crimson yesteryear

on the walls and the ceiling of gray

that will remind thee the seducing pray

then looked at her wistfully

kissed her brow as lying behind the serene sorrow

Do not ever sigh regretfully

to lose morning and flirt

because time will end itself

before thou could recall the rest of the breath

 

C.Sasmita

note:

Loranthus: parasitic plant