Death makes you….!

#Death Born #COVID-19 #Medicine #Yoga #Love #Romance

Death isn’t the opposite of life. It’s the end of life. Of love. Of everything. 
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But death often makes you an immortal. It turns you into a star twinkling in Van Gogh’s Starry Night. The yellow of the morning sky emanates your fragrance like dewdrops on a Mountain top. 
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Death makes you an immortal. 
You wake up at the aftermath of an absurd metamorphosis one morning and you find yourself encased under Kafka’s nib. 
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Death makes you an immortal. 
It befalls upon you as an epiphany that, like a fleeting sunset you were never meant to stay at the same place.
You embark on a mysterious journey with Edgar Allan Poe in his universe of dreams within a dream. 
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Death makes you an immortal. 
It turns you into an elegant oil painting being stroked by silky sable bristles in an Oscar Wilde story. The heavens relent their regal and marvel at the artistry of your portrait. 
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Death makes you an immortal. 
Transforming you into a pair of emerald eyes which could see a rainbow when looking at the monochromatic sky. Your heart pops like a seed pod and blooms into a flower of fulfilment in Thoreau’s garden. 
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Death makes you an immortal. 
You croon songs of autumn in a mellow voice like a Nightingale in the heart of the forest. You become the dandelions dancing with wind, the swallowtails making love beneath the scarlet oak, the very imagery in Keats’ world. 
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I’ve hackneyed this line. 
But, death makes you an immortal. Your spirit lives on through your deeds and ideas. People fade, memories remain. From your cadaver, flowers will grow. Your lungs mightn’t be able to feel the salinity of the fresh ocean air, but your essence will live on timelessly through your work. Beauty will bloom from the depths of darkness.

Credit : stan_the_anomaly

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