Death

It creates a void

Which cannot be filled with 

Golden bricks or silver cement.

It creates a memory

Which cannot be replaced with

Diamond jewels and purest gems.

It creates a song,

Which cannot be heard with

Magical string and ornated flute.

But it is a replica,

Of your life

Where you poured your dreams!

It is the medal

Which ornate your grave,

With the tears of your dear ones.