My body, buried under the soil,
Wrapped, with layers of foil,
Wrapped, with layers of foil,
Still believe that, You are mine,
As It can hear You sing, that rhythm divine.
I wrote words, that You define,
You sang them, with your voice refine,
I know I am, still alive in time,
Because, I hear you sing, that rhythm divine.
And, when it gets too hot, down here,
My body melts, layer by layer,
And yet I can feel, your love, My Dear
When the rain drops enter, through my ear.
As I lay still, unable to move,
With nothing left, anymore to prove,
I still can feel, a chill in spine,
When I hear you sing, that rhythm divine.
When you put roses, on my grave,
With misty eyes, but acting brave,
I feel your lips murmuring the rhyme,
I know you singing, that rhythm divine.
Music defies borders and it knows no bound,
It even sounds same, under the ground,
And as my body slowly transforming to carcass,
Music grows on it, slowly as green grass.
The chirping of birds, sitting on my tombstone,
The ringing bell, in the nearby church room,
Makes me believe, I would get a rebirth,
Because your music amplifies my mirth.
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