(Reading Time: 2 min Approx)
They watched him breathe through the night,
No! Not breath, but gasping for it-
His generals and physicians crouched around
Pleading to make him sit.
For once he opened his eyes-
And cast a glance with gleam,
His blue eyes were pale with pain,
Not sparkling they were famous for, but dim!
His breaths were feeble with no locomotion manifest-
He could no longer draw air in,
End was near – so thought all present,
Sound could emit at the drop of a pin.
He winked at one who was closest by,
In a jiffy, had an ear near to his lips,
He muttered something which his general followed-
He watched him keenly as he gave his tips.
The moon came with soothing light
But alas! he wouldn’t open his eyes-
His lieutenants drew further close,
Begging for His blessings in morn’s guise.
Then the end came, came the sarcophagus too.
And the journey to grave left a message grim –
His last wish was to have his palms out;
Showing, even Alexander takes nothing with him.
–by Dr. Parijat De
