No Eulogy Poem by Cris Ben

Yonder lies a man, a brother, a friend, a father, a son
whose soul flickering like dying little sun
amidst the eclectic mob of murmuring prayers
exuding hopes desperate, angry and strong
for a miracle only God may bestow
upon his life-impeded suffering soul.
And from the first heaven where they have touched
comes this ineluctable ghastly death plunge.
Death's gravity pull!
Their pleas shall surely fall
ripping the wings of these supplications
sings down one final choric baritone
of wailing griefs and rumbling sorrows.
To you my brother, I opted to shut them all
my sight, my ears, my heart
for me not to see nor feel the frantic madness
in every of your loved ones' eyes and cries
that your agonizing eternal sleep shall bring.
I might just as well dwell and live
here on this other end far across your orient seas
silently weeping and lamenting
as everyday i become one with day end silence
and soon sure enough
will your death be buried
under piles of sedulous dillydallying
under the bustling city noises
under genuine requited emotions
under my own adventures and battles
under the ironic mysteries of our omniscient lives!
Be entombed deep deep down these catacombs
of forgotten memories and
horrors.