And her eulogy sang me to sleep

Lying in darkness,

on a bed of roses

naked and cold and grey.

Wrapped in velvet

black as the night

beside her, a man betrayed.

Naked as she,

motionless and quiet,

pale as the ghost

of her haunting past;

Covered in shadows

of her sorrow,

he lies spread like a mast.

The tears down her cheeks,

will never be wiped

while she, lies barren

in her torn disguise.

The man on her side

as dead as her heart;

Torn to shreds by his passing.

The man, none but me.


Your sweet embrace,

the touch of your lips,

burn inside me and still make me weep.

The smell of your hair,

the warmth of your skin,

your whispers of love still linger along

with the light inside me that’s all but gone.

I lay here now,

pale and dead,

on a bed, of roses in white;

Next to me,

a broken life,

fragments of what I leave;

Falling deeper,

in her darkness,

powerless to her own mystique.

A ghost of her past

I lay with her;

and hear her cries,

and moans and screams;

From her troubled mind

and broken heart,

spilling out with cryptic dreams.

Music to my ears,

sweet lullaby,

her eulogy sings me to sleep.


By: Viraj Belgaonkar

Pen it... or aaa type it. u know what i mean.

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