They say beauty is in the eye

of the beholder,

yet I

see yours even when I am asleep.

I think beauty is deep

in the minds of the older,

who can try enough to see

what’s left – when their world has grown colder.

I wonder even more why in your sleep

I still catch your charm wander.

If a blind man says you’re beautiful,

doesn’t beauty defy sight?

Even I, with eyes

as seeing as a security’s, doubt I will see

beauty now.

how can I?

when my beholding is in a coffin.

life has taught me,

that the best sights

pass when we blink.

In a blink of an eye

what you behold can turn

into a pic,

vanishing into your mind.

Is that a change in your cup,

did you have a sip,

or was it was that silly cow?

but either way, my queen, I brought you more tea.

To help digest the good news that I have for you tonight.

The doctors said my time

has come, “what are your last words?”

I just smiled at them and they said, “he doesn’t fear death.”

but to me death is a chance to forget death and think about life.

but to me death to is a chance to pack my bags and go see my wife.

I said my last wish, to have my bed near yours.

but after recollecting our youthful tendencies,

I decided otherwise, and here’s my better choice,

next to those fire fighters

I should be laid,

just in case

you and I

meet at a place

where you don’t belong.

even if life doesn’t accompany us

beyond this.

You will still find breath in my memories.

even more when someone decides to read this,


or at nearby gallery

of the deceased.