English Poems Literature Poems

Grief’s Letter to Me

This is my swan song.
The one that ends the night,
Yet doesn’t see the sun rise.
And if this is my swan song,
Then I must sing.
Sing for the reasons why
I end the night,
But fail to see the sun rise.
Sing for my graceful fall
And unlike the perpetuity of the rising sun,
My failure to rise.
I sing until I exist,
For once the night bids me good bye,
I won’t see the sun rise.
I sing for you to hear my existence,
Cherish its every beat;
And in my symphony
Feel incomplete.
Oh, unworthy poet,
You hear what you feel;
You write what I speak;
Yet ask me to repeat;
Make me promise to never return;
Die with the night;
Believe to have heard my swan song;
Before the sun rise.
And yet, here I am again,
To sing for you like last night,
And the night before,
And the one before that too.
Dear thinker, writer, lover,
Please wish me a good night,
Let this truly be my last rite
And I promise that with the sunrise
You will be complete;
You will sing your own songs;
And live a long life.

For I am your grief;
Singing a song on repeat. 
And if you can’t bid good bye,
Wait, at the very least,
Until I have a new song in mind.

By Anirudh Dalmia
Painting by JH Lacrocon

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