Death Has

Air India 12.06.2025

by Ananya S. Guha / June 22nd, 2025

A debris
Black is not
Colour, it is painted
Death, Burnt
All burnt
In this furnace
What they must
Have felt in those
Few minutes
Charred
Black and the man
Who came out
Is his mind intact?
Did he scream
Like the rest?
Black, charred ruins
Of last human vestiges
And the inmates of the
Hostel, are they united
In death?
Charred, black,
Human carcasses have
No feeling.
Death has

Ananya S Guha lives in Shillong in North East India. He has been writing and publishing poetry for the last thirty years, and his poetry has appeared in numerous online publications. He holds a doctoral on the novels of William Golding and currently is a senior academic in India's Indira Gandhi National Open University. Read other articles by Ananya S..

This article was posted on Sunday, June 22nd, 2025 at 8:01am and is filed under Poetry.