The Search

I died an hour ago

It was a painful experience;

Soon I was beyond the clouds,

In a room filled with items made of

Gold, silver, gems, ivory and silk.

I heard a voice asking me to choose a few,

For my keeping,

I let out a loud laugh.

I did not possess any such riches,

While I was alive;

Now that I am dead

What would I do with this kind of wealth?

I extended my hand and began,

To look for the thing, I wanted,

The thing, I most needed.

The same voice asked me again -

‘What are you looking for?’

I could not see the person who spoke.

‘The inner peace I threw away,

The moment I first opened my eyes

To view my world.

You don’t have it, I suppose.’

I asked.

There was no reply.