(Do you think I should fancy girls and women now, Archangel Gabriel? Saint Jacinta never had any virginity, she had Alban)
Are we hieratic or just maverick or manic?
Like sanity is a misplaced word between lines
carved in a Rosetta Stone, whose decipherings
may have deceived all. The true language being untold.
And its true meaning, only lost in such misconceived translations!
Is poetry only a precarious rainbow; joining
hands with delusions, such that it dissipates in its own light
Or is it an open window, where shriveled bravery falls out of –
to its untimely death! Is that all your bravery meant to you?
Did Don Quixote die of his own armored hands?
Or was it a malevolent societal curse? Tragedy is never lost on the hero!
It becomes his life, his soul, and more often than not, his madness!
Who is the hierophant who gives us rite of passage?
Do we devolve in subjugation, or do we keep burning in a courageous sublimity,
waiting in a timeless flow for the solutions
even if there is hardly any evidence of the vaunt-courier?
Dignity is often so deluged that self-worth is a shipwreck
in the ocean of corrupt Men who want the lie and defraud
to twist your arms so you should surrender with the pain!
And justice feels like the Elysian field, that only existed in legend,
never manifestly. And is your poem no elixir, but an ellipsis
that only confounded you in your incompleteness despite your denumberality?!
How does a mythic hero die! Is a poet’s death comparable?
There is so much villainous lightning striking the conscience-tower!
Why does the righteous hand need to strike itself down?
Is God so forlorn that he can’t do justice even to himself,
forget about others?! You know that a treachery takes down
everything that God aspires for, and then, has him blindfolded, tongue-tied, hands-bound!
So should he use his rusty blade against himself
like so many of you expounders of the truth
that truth and justice should be extruded from all annals
and be lost and forgotten to posterity like a despicably imposed blackout?
Why are villains better pugilists than heroes?
What is God’s potency then, if he only must be reduced to a shadow of himself?
If he must be faulted for rebutting those that want to victimise him, and imprison him?
Or should he carry on hoping and daring in his rectitude, rather than
fearing a despairing futility?
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