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A Recurring Thought

A Recurring Thought

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Lately this thought came to my mind in a recurring way.

What if I die? What if I die?


Do the thoughts in my mind catch fire just like the body?

Do the thoughts, escape and find a new house for them?


Or do they run away to better higher places sitting on wings of birds.

I often wondered about the memories in my heart and head.

What would happen to them once I die?


Will they stay close to me and give me warmth on a windy day.

Will they play pick a boo when I sleep?

 And drop down on hands and knees when I want to find them.


To help me wake up after a drowsy week, will my memories be their?

Or even they will turn into a wisp of cotton escaping through my fingers.


And the soul which they claim, how will it look?

Like a dainty fur ball, Flimsy likes of the Indian silk.

Or just thin air touching your cheek on a breezy night.


It could be like heart, shining like a fire ball

Whatever it be, it be

Once I am no more how it does matter this way or that

It should be just a peaceful sleep with no worries at all.


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