dead and lifeless, in a box I lie
just my size, to be buried deep somewhere,
arranged with flowers, bright and fragrant
more alive than dead, are they
the final goodbye I have said,
gone am I, never to return–but
who am I, who am I, who am I?
am I —
the knowledge I arduously gained,
from all the books I read and re-read.
the wealth and riches I made,
at the cost of sweat, often also blood.
the skill with utmost care I groomed,
for that, today, has me world-renowned.
the numerous battles I braved,
where win or loss never, only a fight mattered.
all those dreams I dared to dream,
and the goals I never, or have, reached.
None of it, I realised, am I,
but, who am I, who am I, who am I
deep and loud, for one last time I wonder
“the difference, you make to the world,
is who you are”, my Master answered,
“Life’s fragrance is in service,
it grows and unfurls, far and wide,
long after you are lifeless and dead”