Pristine Death

M Minakshi Devi
O Death, so pure and pristine.
Fanciest thing that has ever been.
You were a blind turn that
No one could ever foresee,
But , the ultimate home where,
All eventually would be.
Pure as a crystal as clear as streams.
A peaceful slumber full of mystic dreams.
Out of reach, the unfathomable.
Truth of life the inevitable.
You justify all, evening the odds.
Standing tall, the nightmare of Gods.
A twist of tongue to request sweet death,
You aren’t pain and agony but entirely else.
Where souls wear a new array
Into an honest warm faithful grave.
Dear death, I bow before thee.
The bare bosom of utmost serenity.
Farewell, all joys O Death, on rise
More geese than swans now live, more fools than wise.