Three people, Their religions, and a bountiful agony
--
A faith crisis of sorts
I am trapped in the cycle of birth and rebirth
See the stars today, is there a fate existing in faith
Of all the people that passed by me, I never felt close to my gut
Faces coming in and out, freezing the frame, yet distant
The nocturnal humming sound of chatter and cacophony isn’t taming
Of brutality and destruction happening as the humans start foraging
If at all, I do not like my kin, my people, and my brethren
Am I weird and rootless for being indifferent
So, many of my roots I feel are defiled in soil, of close projections, of endless chirping
To say everyone is the same, yet someone is not similar
Of broken by patriarchy and refluxed with echelons
Of trying to use women as a shield to keep them at the center for men to gaze
If not the wounds were mine, for the ownership is mine, and let her burn
To die, detach and turn
To hostess or fodder turned into ash.
Of these confusions and intense ramifications, I want to be rootless and
Fly to be a bird again of no origins, of no center
Just flying till the breath lasts.
God forced me to bow down
The winds brush my hair
As the towering, divine protractor gives his declared verdicts
On who to pray and not to pray
Me sitting on my feet with my hands extended vertically
And a rush of shrieks envelope cataclysmically came to my conscience
For the protractor wanted to deduce the right God
The mistrusted and belittled naysayers had already assumed for that God to forcefully bow down
I don’t want to bow down, I imagine my God to be kind
His moorings and glaring presence require love
An unconditional love of wishing everyone everything
I don’t want to torture myself to be on the trajectory of, ‘my way or highway’
For all ways can cross into small lanes and I know for a fact that my little heart loves the almighty,
For all the good things I have done, I did it with a pure heart and took the primordial force’s blessings.
And he accepted me for who I am, and I became genderless for him
In either of the extremes, he the almighty can be she too, for he is neutered into nature and not man-made stories
And he shared with me the immense satisfaction to be able to be accepting
Of the cared and not cared, all he cared for me was to be sure that I could never do wrong willingly.
I do me, and you do you
Every morning, I wake up with my eyes closed
To glare at one book, being purist in its writing
To guide and share my sorrows, to ask for pure kindness
To be loyal to the greater force of the mankind
As times spin in the yarn in the holy hall from the shifting perspective of tinted glass
Of all glassed with many colors but only one to see
For my peers, I always am a misnomer, not a prodigy but a different creature
Of I read one book more than I can ever imagine. I have put my complete trust in the universe.
Of the maximal creation that I and they are part of
If at all you can be ignorant, my blessings will always be with you.
I realized and yet I inch my heart to experience fruitful love,
For if the heart is happy, all the truths vanish
And a sublime enchanting silence exists
Thanks a lot for stopping by and scrolling a read, I hope you liked it. For more poems, you can read some of my other writeups!
Self-Love on Valentine’s Day: My tryst with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder
Coming out of the shell: shooting your soul out of your body
