A thousand hymns and a hundred names
Pleas for redemption, to allay pain
A prayer to smother the deathly flames
Of evil - in a soothing rain.
A promise to scale mountains tall
To negotiate with the Almighty one.
Or perambulate the temple wall
To repent for offences done.
A ritual invoking the soul within;
A quest to, body's depth, unearth.
- Tranquility crushes melancholic din
And serenity returns, if not mirth.
A passing peace, a diabolical trick
- Taking heart again before the fall
What hurt was once searing prick
Is now a saber - slicing all.
For prayers give you heart again.
The Believer begins to brim with trust,
Yearning for that eternal rain
Only to crumble like an Iron in rust.
He burns within in agonizing ache;
For worse still than drowning, is when -
At Death, he thinks there is a chain to take...
Hope is given and withdrawn again.
Wallowing in self pity and envious spite
He hates. He tires. He has lost. He's worn.
Oh Omnipresent Benevolent Light!
I hope you're glad. An atheist is born.
I don't like the ending. It's too sad. And sorrow is hardly what anyone needs these days! :)
ReplyDeleteBrilliantly written though..
I like I like :D
ReplyDelete@ Anunaya, I call it as it is. Thanks.
ReplyDelete@ Ani, :)I wonder if you can be cynical without sounding suicidal?
It could be worse. You could choose boiling rage over nonchalant disbelief. And burn endlessly. :)
ReplyDelete@ Tajo,
ReplyDeleteOh yes, the disbeliever consoles himself by that very fact.