Real

You are real.

You are the one.

Today I speak to you –

And I give myself.

Let this build –

Within, whatever I am.

A slow a kill it is.

A slow pill it is.

Your music moves –

Moves my bones

Till they melt to water

And rains down

I will quench myself.

The symphony renders psychedelic,

The tenor sounds clear and sound.

Your magnificence screams through.

It is but an adoration of my love.

It is a confession of my hidden fears.

What do you know of my unrest?

The unrest that shatters through –

This moment of my unpleasant dream

You stand there laughing.

Laughing at my ignorance –

And I repent my inability.

Your rotting bread,

Your blessed grass,

Your roughened sword,

Your perennial scar –

Etched on my very being,

And I fall in despair –

The unknowing –

The unforgiving,

The forsaken –

The dying…

I twist and turn.

I quell and I burn.

I seek peace.

I miss –

The very reason you sent me unto.

Your sun burns me.

Your rains does console at times.

The freeze embitters me –

Till it mellows in watering frost

And yet I complain.

I complain of variety.

I shred my sobriety.

I lay down motionless –

Inert in my senses,

Till you send the thunder of passion –

It rains down on my inglorious being.

I am but just a ‘faqir’ –

I am but an absolved soul.

Off your generous abode

Cursed to haunt this very land you promised,

And yet I lay at ease.

I have got nothing to ask for.

I have nothing to cry upon.

I have no remittance.

I have no home.

In this wide world you left –

I roam wherever I belong.

And whenever I feel bereft,

Whenever I feel undone,

I hold on to my straining nerves.

And I say –

I am your puppet

You are my puppeteer.

*****