An Ode to Immortality ~ "Thou Art A Curse"

Oh how we humans wish to be immortal,

So we could roam through timeless portals

Why should not we die?

Why should not we dread death?

Why should we tell a lie?

Why should we long for an easy breath?

For the world is full of things unsettled

And the laws prove that man is mortaled.

Every man will live out his life,

Some in prison, some in exile and strife

The physician reduces each pulse with his scalpel knife.

So let us swear for just a while,

We put our faith in God, for there is no denial

We solemnly agree that we will love our freedom

‘The very gift of life’

Yet, we wait and ponder of over the day that we will be free.

Behold, the world has befriend the devil,

Oh and how these langur’s have perished to bring nations to level.

This world is an ‘inn’, discovered on the path of life’s travels,

So the ones He prepared, whether they be brave no matter what the perils,

Should thou take courage and open thy eyes

Only to see the bitterness of lies

And oh how the wonders have worked only to see, all those nations free.

With time itself winged, we watch the chariot smear its coldness

As the angel of death appears, standing there with much boldness.

Nevertheless, we the ‘hesitant's’ of ‘it’ take no heed,

As we see the martyrs of our land who since then have buried their seed.

The Village Idiot

Chaim Soutine - The Village Idiot
In villages from which their childhood came,

Seeking necessity, they had been taught.

Necessity by nature is the same,

No matter how or by whom it may be sought.

It was perhaps others, who seemed to withdraw,

“Resented by robbers, who were outlawed by the law”.

But, it’s not comfort that I seek,

I live for danger, for sin, for goodness,

What I seek is the freedom of being selfless.

I pray for I have lived a life of sin,

I worship for I have lived a life of despair.

Pray for the pain that’s trapped in the heart,

But, if that very heart is the reason for your pain, then where should you start?

Courage is your only virtue,

Believe it so, with that every soulless part.

The village idiot told himself, there’s one in every town,

This poor soul had no clue, for he was bound by ridicule and frown.

Tears from weeping,

Lost in the silent streets.

Most passed him by without even a sigh!

He sat there dirt and all, with this thought,

Only to mumble the echoes of the wars he had fought.