Inevitable is what my life one day, on spanning half or a full circle
Will come to an end; my body becoming morbidly sepulchral.
On that ordinary day, you will know my babble will not resume;
While my thoughts pausing to an everlasting boredom, gloom.
When I retire from my poetic apprenticeship
To finally rest my restless head to an eternal sleep,
Do not forget to dim the lights, otherwise burning;
Who knows, I might need an ambient surrounding.
In this silent new world where myriad have gone solo,
To pass before me and myriad others will follow,
Please play few of our favourite songs without cue,
Ones of wonderful lyrics and tunes, ones I shared with you.
You probably will miss my cacophonous voice of a jester,
You may also, rather oddly, long to hear my incongruent laughter:
Ones that disregard all known chords and scales!
But most of all – you will miss my endless emails.
Please do not shed tears - not one, not one too many
Or wipe mine, if my eyes by chance spill any
At my own carnival's final hour of bidding farewell;
Think of me instead as more flamboyant than humble,
For the smirk on my face, even when I die, will probably hold sway
And gently whisper cliché in your ears – 'its time for me to go away'.
Forget the societal rituals, and tell everyone:
That there will be no need for a media obituary to be spun
Essays, poems or a remembrance note to my dedication,
As well as there will be no need for a 'milad' congregation.
When I die, if you choose to take on the onerous task
Of opting for only black & white, like a colourless masque,
For publishing my works, magnanimously
Thus honouring my useless rants immensely -
Whatever penned in the form of poems and prose,
I shall keep smiling even under the sleepy dose!
You deserve a lot more than just gratitude
Or my attempts at appreciating your pulchritude,
For you inspired the poet inside, despite life's vicissitudes
In every impossible, unimaginable latitudes and longitudes!
On this day, I'm not dying, moribund or being a sleepyhead –
I am, in all melancholic reality, pronounced 'Dead'
My legacy will nonetheless live, because, undeterred
I do not deserve but I am destined to be heard.