Poetry

Somebody take me to grave…
 ‘Am still naïve… with
vicisstitudes  all in grey…
The need is gone… the urge so on…
Want to lay there…as ‘Am now…
With no whims of joys and sorrows…
The identity of being anonymous…
Where; the world of famous lay far behind…
That solitary world…I was made to love…
So calm and sound… with none around…
The flashes of happy memoirs, hunt me down…
The haggles of present life, will be far gone…
Where death; lay serene to me, astride…
Only the  Parson off
humans will decide…
The fate of mine…
The time will pass…my soul ll be off past…
free and liberated…To the worlds of knights…