I am sorry to confess that I find nothing profound or even true in the words spoken by Kher, though he did attempt to make them sound grave and convincing. The repetitiveness in the poem just cannot be missed. The end of the poem betrays it all : Yes, there is death, but there can always be rebirth of love !! What good is love after one is dead? Any use to those great martyrs, patriots or even the Mahatma or the lynched ones?