When a man
Lies in his grave
And sleeps in his
Mother's arms.
With the blanket
Of the vast sky over him.
Unaware of the world outside.
Unaware of the,
Human Savage behaviour.
He sleeps in his grave,
And the nightingale,
And the animals and nature
Sing for him.
The melody of the song,
That touches his heart
And comforts his soul
Decays with him
As time passes by.
~Bunty
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