A Poet - 08

One day I met- A sad looking poet Walking swift, very fast Along the railway track. I just moved ahead, Just to talk to him, As I peeped into his eyes, He looked at me. I just asked him- What a flower is? A dying soothing breeze Supposed to carry at ease The faint cry of a girl On her bed of death. Then I asked him- What a baby girl is? A foolish bubble on water Dreaming to meet the ocean Streaming down the hill On a volcanic path. Then I asked him- What a long life is? A stale plate of delicious food Cooked with love and served with care On pyre of a meaningless fire Like a mole in Cobra's mouth. And I asked him- What a death, then is? Railings of desire and walls of lust, Locks of greed, wings glued, Along the dark and heinous wrath, Riding on the horse of egotist void A day of release from Golden jail.