When Death has seized our earthly frame some day,
And gets our soul released, Creator-bound;
What does it matter palled or coffined, say?
No more can worldly travails ever hound.
Some get incinerated, fit, unfit;
None can prevent the Ants and Worms from work;
Or Vultures, Fishes, beasts that devour it;
No more can Death upon us again lurk.
Some mummified by years are-looked with awe;
Some dissected to show man’s various parts;
Some fossilised are found when ice-does thaw;
Most go -to soil again when life departs.
When life has gone and soul has left our frame,
Nothing remains our name, fame, blame or shame.
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