ALL DEAD

Twinkling of the birth
Stays a moments bliss
Like the stars littered
All over the sky, untidy
In its haughty forbearance

Not knowing what the event
Will come pouring in the
Dimmed vastness outside
I lay unmindful, unrelenting
To the obvious premonition

Someday shooting stars
With force; fast and bright
Will struck an abyss
Down below where love resides
And all will be reduced to ashes

Time and again the story tell thus
The journey meant to be attuned
To the soul, was basking
In glory of all dead
Unattached and un-orbed!