Epilogue: Words

Rhyming words and rhythmic beats,
like empty stage with crowded seats.
Magnifying the vacuum in the crowded space
with words struggling hard, but not keeping pace!

These words are so disturbing, disgusting and deep
like a wife trying to find herself besides a rich man's keep.
They no more flow gaily with the ebb of life
but demand they be treated as either a whore or a wife.

But words and more words, can they suffice?
can the stage-actors don a believable guise?
Up on a pedestal they amuse and excite
with the meaning of death lost in the funeral rite.

So off with words and off with prose,
            off with Cinderellas and off with rose,
If you can't say something -at least be frank;
            and on what remains unsaid let your poetry bank!