L to R - Me, Granny and Mitul da
The end game - death came.
Took away another name!
Thoughts, memories stay,
The bustle of life eventually replaces the initial dismay!
Time stops, in a trance
Leaping flames eat up the discarded body
As if cleansing or purifying the putrefying
A balm of relief against painful suffering.
Anything that starts, has an end
The road from childhood to a second childhood had many bends!
Now, when the cold numbness meets the searing fire,
A serene calm greets the burning pyre.