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.
