How can anything be divine?!: A poem 

I have the sky in my mezzanine 

Because I have an inclination 

to take the top and bottom out of everything 

It happens to address the controversy of evil 

breathing at my neck, tailing my step 

The artificial flora and fauna these conspirators create 

are not native to my jungle book. And if this persists 

like a machination of weather-gods, I am prone 

to tear the book to shreds. For I am Mowgli, 

with the illustrations in my soul. 

You can block my audition and blind my vision 

You can declassify love to its ignominy 

But a mystification doesn’t delude my will 

Love is not just a fragment of eternity 

I dream of loyalty even if it is corrupted 

I didn’t fight lions, though they were domesticated by such thieves 

Would I always shoot the messenger of evil 

because evil, itself, is no combatant of open warfare 

I’m not afraid; though chess pieces are better than battlefields 

I can assure you the blood I shed in the past was no mere pinprick!    

And I have not let myself be rounded up with the pain! 

You can see, that if the friends that I bolstered 

failed to be my sinews, I have still not forsaken them 

But I am not a loudmouthed bullfrog 

Just, sometimes, a monkey out of compulsion 

I leave all of you with your own reflections 

With the presumption that even mirrors can speak the truth 

I just don’t like disguise, and certainly not cloak and dagger 

But I am destined to play the part 

It is a theatre that is mine and not mine 

And I just know that sacred can be made profane, so how can anything be divine?!