Silent Footfalls Poem by Ajit Das

How does one feel
about the impending death?
Is it a sort of liberation
or dawning of an awareness:

time closing in with no chance
to put things right,
if they have gone wrong
somewhere on the journey?

Is it regret, stoic acceptance,
carefree spirit to seize the day
or satisfaction for trying best
to lead a meaningful life?

They're all like colours
of different shades on the palette
to paint the mental canvas
without any dewy-eyed bromides.