Vishal Dutia

The preacher stood before the crowd,
His voice was clear, his words were loud,
He spoke of life, he spoke of breath,
But all could hear was the sermon of death.

He told of graves and tombstones cold,
Of stories that have been retold,
Of souls departing from this earth,
And leaving loved ones in their dearth.

He spoke of darkness, he spoke of pain,
Of tears that fall like summer rain,
Of hearts that ache and souls that weep,
And of the eternal slumber, deep.

But in his words, there was a light,
A hope that shone so clear and bright,
A promise of a better place,
Where love and joy will fill each space.

So let us heed the sermon well,
And on our journey, may we dwell
In kindness, love, and empathy,
And live a life that’s full and free.

© VishalDutia