Several hundreds danced
To beats and trumpets
While he lay in glassy caskets
Where-in a neon-eyed steel
Flashing coloured flashes
Proclaiming Cadava’s triumph
And sings of the earth’s benevolence

Louder and louder the trumpets blared
Harder and harder the beats they beat
Sweeter and sweeter the melody becomes
The earth says ‘she is a mother of words’
And men her praises continue
Singing, on the way to
The site of blissful bid

Only there does the beat cease
Permitting the reign of peace.
In stillness our ancestors
They invoke in humble plea
And prayed that it will no more prey.
But there and then, it marks
A man that prayed to prey

Oh if I must tell you!
She owes all a tomb
To keep every fleshy secret secret;
A temporary home to rest to make
From where to make
For the blissful reality
With an ounce of certainty.