Upon a Grave

Here beneath my feet,

Lies a great man dead,

People loved him unconditionally,

What was it that he had?

He gave his food to the hungry,

He treated the orphan as his own,

He didn’t show people his greatness,

And kept his virtues unknown,

He left no palaces or treasures,

But still he gave all he can,

He loved the downtrodden,

Irrespective of their caste, clan,

This is the reason that today,

People weep on remembering him,

‘Bless him, Dear God, bless him,’

The soil on his grave screams.

From My Poems: Twenty Ten