Longing For Re-Emergence

Everyday my poem as soon as born Grown up a pleasant young lady Very touchy... Incomprehensible..mysterious..unruly... I love her Playfully talk Play the sycophant Charm her mind Follow her wishes What else do's she want? Not known... Leaving me on the sea-shore of grief Commit suicide I make myself incinerator Prepare funeral bed with my bones; Lay down her corpse I make myself cremator Then perform the obsequies... Listen, recently taken decision no more cremation I'd commence mystical rite of contemplation with the corpse of my beloved poem. And longing for her re-emergence.