Penned By B D Narayankar
Do not cut my fame into pieces
I'm used to your poisoned kisses
I'm a thousand Jeez that bleed
I'm the star glints at nights
I'm the wind sprints on ice
I'm a thousand fire that burns
reducing to ashes the rotting worms
When you awaken from the slumber
raise a little voice, raise a thunder
Of the quiet smouldering molten might
I'm a soldier brave gives up not fight
Can I think of a cowardly suicide,
for I'm always prepared to be crucified
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not here, I did not die
Nor said goodbye!
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