I once wished for an artistic death—
sorrowless, painless,
simple and beautiful,
like a white bird dissolving silently
into the mist of dawn.
The days, heavy with the weight of life,
have pushed me deep
into the mouth of a volcano,
where my prayers burn
in the color of molten fire.
No one stood beside me—
I couldn’t accept that truth.
All around, only the smell of ashes,
and through verses of unspoken words
the long agony of dying
still burns fiercely within my chest.
I know—death is not always an end;
sometimes,
it is the softest syllable of life.
Instead of embracing your love,
I choose to embrace death itself.
This winter, like a wandering bird,
I will vanish into the unknown.
Perhaps the longing to rest
in the warmth of your heart
will never return again.
Forget me,
and forgive all the sins of love.
মন্তব্যসমূহ
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