O, Atheist! Poem by C. P. Sharma

Seeing is believing is a transitory truth
You miss the real things that say sooth

Of color and forms, the body might boast
But one day, your own will call it a ghost

They won't be able to bear its stink
When death through stony eyes winks

When the invisible bird takes flight
The burial will put you out of sight

Sans Him you are but ashes and bones
Into the running waters, they are thrown

You are God, in Him your truth realize
O atheist, in your clay body, Him eulogize