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Born at Death
‘Born at death! ' Hark! the piercing cry of freedom.
Emancipation from the restrictive bonds of the womb of life,
A devious, dark hole of exhausting responsibilities,
Social arrogance and moral instability.
Man, an innocuous, insignificant, weightless thistledown,
Blown in every possible direction of desire,
Driven along the narrow by-lanes of hope,
Carried down the dark, meandering river of destiny,
Panting up the steep, rough hillock of endeavour,
Finally emerging from the dark hole,
Liberated into the bright light of eternity,
A bodiless, glimmering soul.
poem
by
Renu Beri
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