twilight
over the gigantic mount of Himalayas
facing
directly to the great temple of Chokyi
with
last veneration until, same time
it
glows in faint rosiness, that rang a bell
'A
day near to graveyard'
down
to the base of mighty mount
the
unbroken cries of Himalayan river
descending,
steadily through the vales
of
beautiful laden branches and fragrance
disappears
with the melodic rhythm, nothing is everlasting
Over
the ascending peak of mighty mount
the
dark dense clustered clouds
transform
the blue vast sky into a gloomy
that
drizzle down over the hamlet of Dewathang
this
altering natural phenomenon, reminds of uncertainty
A
recent news of a woman's death, is an example
to
our last entrance through which
no
one shall prove supremacy
it
was you and me who talked about her death
sooner
or later they shall talk about my graveyard.
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