Death, My Death, Talk to Me

a poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

Death, my death, you talk to me
What it in my lot
In my destiny
Death, my death?

How your approaches
How your footfall
Dotted with a silence
Breaking the lull?

Death, my death, you talk to me
How your footfall and the thud
Of your arrival
How the terror striking?

Death, what it to pride over
To be puffed with
I know it what it to befall me
How the things of the world?

You a hard-hearted man
So cruel and callous
So brutal and bloody
Unsparing in your job, tougher job!

Death, my death, talk to me
What it in my lot
What it in fate, destiny
Death, my death?

And what can a man do
What can a man
What can I after all
And what can you?

Is there no escape?
No escape from your cruel hands
Is there no escape?
No escape from?

You, the Messenger of God
The Messenger of Dharmaraja
You of Yama
As we see it in folktales!

I do not know it
How do you visit man?
How are the ways of yours?
How the dispensation of your justice?

How is justice meted out to?
How is your treatment?
How your manner
How your handling?

Are you a falconer?
Are you a jailer?
Are you a morgue-man?
Are you a post-mortem man?

Who, who are you?
Death, my death
Are you a hangman?
Are you a morgue ‘Dom’?