Yes, my eyes were teary, but did not weep!: A poem

(Based on a beautiful song by the Beatles: While my guitar gently weeps)

I simply can’t be so fulsome running up to you all with my love

God sometimes also needs protection and refuge in the alcove

I am not yet desperate to fit my hand in all your glove

I am just waiting for evil to decamp before I exhibit my treasure trove

Do you all realize that in you all being cheated, I was defeated?

The perverters of the truth stole my all, and you all were having them feted

Do you all think that should have daunted me, and have my efforts aborted?

You can say Paradise is an infinite place, even in the `bindu’ in which it must be slotted

Thank the Beatles they told you all long before, but you didn’t understand!

Would I blame you all that you consorted to evict me from my land

Untruths were sounding like truths to you all in those inglorious boots

I only knew my selflessness to save you all; I didn’t care about the loot

If you think I am to condone the evil, I think I ought to kick them with my foot

Would you all acquiesce with me, if you realized how much, from me, they took?

How did I stumble in the fighting corner?! How I fell to dust?!

But like a Phoenix I rearose; that I deemed I must

When there is so much evil calling individual revelation a solipsism, what did you all trust?

How come that evil brands me as a liar, and still looks at me with lust?!!