I am the king of all the poets, the lord of all the lore,
I stand on a higher ground, above all the lament roar,
I grow as I tread, spearing through the wind,
I shall declare me,
I am the god of ego! I am the ghost song!
The words I say revolt me, come crashing on my head,
I live on them, and all that is heard and read,
No sky binds me, no earth is my walk,
I have my own earth and a sky to mock,
Real or right, I coalesce them well,
A grimace on the pulpit as I wither my shell,
Time and distance no longer confront me,
As I am there voice, and they, the song to me,
I weave my soul and my heart, into the lyrics,
They stand as life, as bare mimics,
And now I tug myself into a coffin,
A god must die too, a holy law,
As my voice is heard,
I the song, I the lyrics, is learnt,
No passion now caresses the face of life,
I say adieu to my song, my love, my soul wife,
This romance shall end.
Oh me! O life! of the questions of these recurring,
Of the endless traines of the faithless, of cities fill’d with the
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish
than I, and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the
struggle ever renew’d
Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I
see around me,
Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me
The question, O me! so sad, recurring–What good amid these,
O me, O life?
That you are here–that life exists and identity,
That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.
I pray to thee oh God,
but sometimes I wonder if you do exist?
Coz I can see O Master,
many unchecked boxes in my wish list.
People say you are magical,
but do you ever plan?
to delete the grievances of your own people,
people who call you Father of heaven.
Some say you wipe the tears,
some say you remove all heartaches,
but what I think O creator of all,
you laugh at your place when our heart breaks.
may I ask thy in the language of people,
Or may I not?
a question in my mind,
just give it a thought.
Why dont you love me?
have I never folded my hands before you?
Or you just dont feel like helping?
aint I true?
Well I dont know,
if you are really up there,
Or as they say if you are in my heart,
Or tell me now you reside where?
and hey,do you love anyone on this earth?
except the ones who practice flattery,
do you hold us ever?
or are we always free?
Free from your care,
from your affection,
when we want you to free us,
from this world’s faction.
I end this here or it will go too long,
but do ponder over what I insist,
Let me be sure my Lord,
that you do exist.
A cry to the lands of the normal people,
A day would come when your faith would cripple,
The songs of nightingale would shout out blasphemy,
Befitting your belief, your life your irony,
A day might come when the sun won’t shine,
Shivers up your spine!
Your God! Your Pride!
Your Shame! Your Mind!
Burn them down, your false humanity and your coveted tyranny,
For love and hate,
For your sordid faith,
Break Out! Break Out!
For, a day would come when the numbers won’t count,
The debts won’t mount,
And a day would come when your heart would beat,
Your soul trimmed down, now loving and neat,
Governments will fall,
No phone connects your call,
The silence would speak,
Gather you all , let your feelings creak,
For, a day would come, whose night won’t end.