Why do you stand at my grave, drowning in tears?
I am not lost in the city's clamor.
This is not death, but merely a pause,
I am hidden in the concrete jungle.
I'm not stuck in life's traffic jam.
I flow ceaselessly through the metro tunnels,
I'm calling you on memory's cellphone.
I'm flying amidst skyscrapers,
Tell them, I exist in every corner of the city,
Flowing eternally as the river of existence.
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Author:
Prasun Goswami (
Offline) - Published: August 26th, 2024 02:16
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 21
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
Offline)
Comments1
Beautiful!! A modern version of old thought. This was framed so nicely and flowed just like the river onward, ever onward. Loved it
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