God is Almighty and God is all Good.

  

Born in the class of honourable triple cord,

I do have an epithet which I am not aware.

And proud of the halo, the paternal gift,

Became the embodiment of divinity without much fuss.

The world did grow and the mysteries too,

The class did get worsen as never than before.

Reality of life is the order of the day,

And relative reality was far from approached.

Lacking the subtlety once I possessed,

The unclenching knowledge and the divine bliss,

Where is life and awareness, the two factors of me?

I have a moral duty to survive.

God is Almighty and God is all good,

But what is this evil without his will.

The conscious of mine is too gifted to be potted,

Where can I shed the tainted blood from my heart?

Creator, the God, the perfect creation,

But he is also an imperfect creator as many.

My soul, its radiance are the mercy of the divine,

Lacking in the virtue of original from the birth.

The path is tedious and many maladies ahead,

There is no flight from relative real to absolute real.

My bribes are my deeds and they are my laurels,

My conscious is clear and carry no halo.

Hard Trip

Hard trip

Sea has got its breakfast now,

Darkness looming all over the place.

Chill of wind splashed water on me,

The ideal time for the specters here.

The moonlight started to travel down fast,

And chirping of birds is hard to hear.

The streets are marked with wilted flowers,

The ideal time for the hunters here.

I gazed through the window as hard as ever,

The calmness of the night surprised me.

My nose did smell the burning flesh

I couldn’t make out who is in there.

The flames of fire is red and far,

“It’s a graveyard” my room boy said.

Sipping the hot soup he has served,

I thought ‘how long I could go like this?’

Started my journey thirty years back,

How many dear ones left without their will?

My soup got colder as my mind,

Vagaries of life are not yet over.

Assured a place one day there,

Thrilled to meet my friends rejoicing there.

Still afraid to go deep there,

Who am I to stop the eternal truth?

Sold Out Soul

Sold Out Soul

What a selfish man I am, without any bones,

What I have is nothing but farce

Bought up in an hot bigheaded pan,

Cooked better than an oven in the make,

Essence of ego, hatred and anger mixed to the brim,

Dressed with a poisonous smile in the front,

Served to the world in a three piece suit,

My mission is to quadruple the wealth of the lot,

Brains are to function and not the heart

Otherwise called as a technical fault

Thunder and lightning came from the top

What’s the use of brains down here?

Profound rains washed me from the scene,

Only better suits hang upped there.

In the street, into the blue

Strolling to the hut I saw ahead,

Hailed by the noble who stood at the door,

He said ‘welcome the smug who sold his soul’

To my shame I saw a crowd,

They said you are not the first and even the last.

Thoughts