"They call me dead" "I don’t know why they call me dead, Although inside I bleed. They took me in a coffin, Smiling as if they won something, Even as they relished my suffocation. They placed roses on my body, Talking of how foolish I was, How useless I was to this world. 'It’s good he died; now the burden is less.' In the silence of my final rest, Their laughter echoes cruelly, stark and cold. They dance upon my grave, unburdened, While I lie forgotten, my story untold. Alone in the darkness, I drift through dreams, Invisible to those who once knew my name. Their voices haunt the void where my soul weeps, A mournful dirge in a world gone lame. No longer part of their waking lives, I am but a shadow cast by their disdain. They speak of relief, as if my departure Erased their discomfort, their hidden pain. In this endless night, I cry silent tears, A ghost adrift in their cruel apathy. My essence lingers, unacknowledged, In the emptiness where I once sought to be. Oh, how I yearn for one last embrace, A moment of understanding, a spark of grace. But I am lost to their uncaring eyes, A sorrowful whisper beneath the skies. As earthworms feast upon my rotting flesh, Insects crawl where warmth once dwelled, My body, now a banquet for decay, While my spirit, trapped, still mourns and swells. In death, I find no peace, no end to my pain, My heart’s cry echoes through the soil, An agonized lament in the damp, dark vein, A betrayal of trust, a love turned to spoil. Friendships I thought eternal, now shattered and frail, Love that once held me close now turned to dust. In their eyes, I was a burden to veil, Yet my essence lingers, though my form is thrust. The earth consumes, but my sorrow endures, My spirit weeps in the shadows of decay, A testament to love betrayed and pure, Still alive in the circle of life’s dismay. Let the roses wither, let the silence grow, For in their relief, my spirit still cries. I am no more to them, I am no more to this world, But I am still alive in the circle of life, Although inside I bleed, yet my sadness remains, An echo of anguish in the vast, empty plains." 'It’s good he died; now the burden is less.' ©_नूर_ए_दिल_

_नूर_ए_दिल_

"They call me dead" "I don’t know why they call me dead, Although inside I bleed. They took me in a coffin, Smiling as if they won something, Even as they relished my suffocation. They placed roses on my body, Talking of how foolish I was, How useless I was to this world. 'It’s good he died; now the burden is less.' In the silence of my final rest, Their laughter echoes cruelly, stark and cold. They dance upon my grave, unburdened, While I lie forgotten, my story untold. Alone in the darkness, I drift through dreams, Invisible to those who once knew my name. Their voices haunt the void where my soul weeps, A mournful dirge in a world gone lame. No longer part of their waking lives, I am but a shadow cast by their disdain. They speak of relief, as if my departure Erased their discomfort, their hidden pain. In this endless night, I cry silent tears, A ghost adrift in their cruel apathy. My essence lingers, unacknowledged, In the emptiness where I once sought to be. Oh, how I yearn for one last embrace, A moment of understanding, a spark of grace. But I am lost to their uncaring eyes, A sorrowful whisper beneath the skies. As earthworms feast upon my rotting flesh, Insects crawl where warmth once dwelled, My body, now a banquet for decay, While my spirit, trapped, still mourns and swells. In death, I find no peace, no end to my pain, My heart’s cry echoes through the soil, An agonized lament in the damp, dark vein, A betrayal of trust, a love turned to spoil. Friendships I thought eternal, now shattered and frail, Love that once held me close now turned to dust. In their eyes, I was a burden to veil, Yet my essence lingers, though my form is thrust. The earth consumes, but my sorrow endures, My spirit weeps in the shadows of decay, A testament to love betrayed and pure, Still alive in the circle of life’s dismay. Let the roses wither, let the silence grow, For in their relief, my spirit still cries. I am no more to them, I am no more to this world, But I am still alive in the circle of life, Although inside I bleed, yet my sadness remains, An echo of anguish in the vast, empty plains." 'It’s good he died; now the burden is less.' ©_नूर_ए_दिल_

_नूर_ए_दिल_