I knew I was made up of dust,
To be blown away in gust,
The beating ceased from my heart,
And from you all I depart.
My ashes scattered all over the air,
But now my soul is under God’s care,
I am nothing but the ashes of yesterday,
All dressed in gloomy grey.
Turned in to flame and burnt in to ashes,
Blown and blowing in the wind like trashes,
Scattered by wind across the fields,
Hoping my mortal remains to fetch some yields.
Let roses grow from the ashes of my heart,
May be it is just my wistful thought,
Let tulips grow from the ashes of my head,
When it mingles along the soils of river bed.
Apple, cherry, and berry, all they may grow from ashes of my body,
Reduced to ash, I am now nothing and nobody,
To be blown and blowing in the wind,
To be remembered only for the legacies left behind.
Dust is now returned to dust,
My destiny’s final tryst,
Over my dust none has ever wept,
Reduced to ash, I am taking my much desired rest.