Sunday Poetry by Anjali De Nandi

The last time

The time is over.
From toes to head
Here is white body cover.
On it so many flowers…
White, yellow, blue, orange, pink, red…
All colors of them are also with their attractive powers.
These blossoms are my death companies at my last hours.
These did not know their last destination,
When they were blooming from buds.
Now these are on my heart, yet do not hear my beats.
Can not feel my body-heat.
And also my tongue can not say words
About their fairness.
Now we all are in our last bed.
The burning fire is our ultimate, last bed.
My whole body is movementless.
My last time of Earth is not endless
But the Earth’s time is endless.