SLAP TO SLEEP

This time is for long faces and wet eyes
To honour the departed with weeping ovation
But I hear no sob nor see any tear
Where is the Ocean of tears and siren of wailings?
Ah! The atmosphere has been raped

Today is mourning day
But Irony has taken over
Laughter barges into the solemn air
Business cards, friendly compliments on the exchange
The sleeping fellow totally forgotten

Pots of all sizes very busy
Aromas clashing in the air
Delicacies and cuisines unlimited
See appetites on rampage
When in hibernation it ought

The cloud is invaded by cheers
Oceans not of tears but wine
Forerunning cliffs on many plates
They ignore the rites for some bites
It’s all about him and not about him

Professional tears far from the ground
They promised to be there
But see them on the dance floor
After the rites they walk over the bed
It’s all about him and not about him

They ought to be in tears for him
But canopies and drums are rolled out
And different tunes enter the Air
Mourning continues at the dinning
And wailing on the Dance floor

Dust to the feet, feet to the dance floor
The still one seizes not to shake his head
The departed ought we to honour
But they only become still celebrants
And reason for another party