Grief makes the beloved proud.

You were taken off my embrace.
I grieve and deeply grieve on your loss.
In grief, I experience solace.
It soothes me like your grace.
How proud you can be to notice!
As you are alive, taken of me,
I shall let you know this.
The dead are grieved over by survivors.
The dead have no recourse to surmise.
But you can. A gift to you, my beloved.
05.05.2001, Pmdi

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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