Rhythmic and Metric

The Man Is Dead

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Occasion solemn,
The music tiresome;
Assembly sodden,
A spooky cooee.

A man young desi,
With covered breast says:
Am dead can you see?
My soul is soaring!
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None hear him speaking;
Some chatter, cry, talk.
Many go mocking
The life he had led.

Abound accounts fed
To damage might his.
They’re tales that now tread
Amid yarns spun well.

But what’s heard I tell:
Unholy sad knell.
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Cedric Noronha
Cedric Noronha
1 month ago

Very good post. Nice poem about the man who has passed away. Keep up the good work.

B Sudharsan
Reply to  Cedric Noronha
1 month ago

Thanks a ton, Cedric!

veani jenifer
1 month ago

A worthy ode

B Sudharsan
Reply to  veani jenifer
1 month ago

Thanks for commenting, Veani! 🙏

SIDDHARTH VAMSI
SIDDHARTH VAMSI
1 month ago

Awesome..!!!!

B Sudharsan
Reply to  SIDDHARTH VAMSI
1 month ago

Thanks for reading, Siddharth!

Roshan Bharadwaj
Roshan Bharadwaj
1 month ago

Wow. ❤️

B Sudharsan
Reply to  Roshan Bharadwaj
1 month ago

Thanks. 😊

asad sial
asad sial
1 month ago

nice

B Sudharsan
Reply to  asad sial
1 month ago

Thank you!

Malachi
Malachi
1 month ago

Awesome poems nice job

B Sudharsan
Reply to  Malachi
1 month ago

Thanks again! 😃

Malachi
Malachi
1 month ago

Nice poem keep it up

B Sudharsan
Reply to  Malachi
1 month ago

Thank you, Malachi!

Senyah
Senyah
1 month ago

This is nicely expressed

Senyah
Senyah
1 month ago

This is nicely expressed

B Sudharsan
Reply to  Senyah
1 month ago

Thanks, Senyah!

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