The Eternal Truth

Speaking volumes were the silent
Yet, steady undercurrents
Briefing the long life
Were the flowing currents

Ashes of another abode
Scattered on the face
Of the moving waters
Registered a past phase

I witnessed another name
Losing its meaning
Dropping into the ocean
Meeting the omnipresent

Yet we strut, we fight
Selfish of the worldly possessions
When the inevitable is that
None has any in the end

Written on the banks of Ganga where it comes a full circle- Life, death and everything in between and beyond