Our Last Bit to Sir Kalam

Last evening,
The setting sun could not promise another hopeful morn,
To those who wished to string along
With him... That teacher, that guide, Our missle man
Yes, he Dr. Abdul Kalam!

No...
No conference had he to attend,
No meet has he now to oblige,
As He - the Lord this time,
Was lucky enough
To enjoy sir Kalam's company,
And to relevate his insight!

And so, his soul is off his body
On its way to embrace the heavens!

We know that from now on,
No faces would be as lighted up in his wait
As they did the previous dawn...
For with him one can't ever again
Spend another honoured morn!

Here are we - his people
Standing with shackled feet, cuffed hands and muted lips!
Had we got the chance to be the ones,
With a hope that he would re-exist,
Thousands of souls for him,
Would give up their life
With utmost might and will!

But for him we'll do our last bit,
We'll thump our shackles, bang these handcuffs,
And ring aloud those gongs and rattles
In literal senses... we'll work and work
Until we can soothe his soul...
With strength and energy in us as a whole!
And then encircling this soul
And bouncing him gently over these percussion beats...
We'll bid him a last goodbye...
By our last bit,
Sending him high up there,
Higher than these mountain peaks,
Higher... To the heavens!

- the_inkdiary