Sharique Jamal

Abstract

3  

Sharique Jamal

Abstract

The Road of a Monk..

The Road of a Monk..

2 mins
214


The Road of a Monk..

Paper flowers they seem now,

Bereft of scent and emanating falsity,

The promises made, the expectations spurned,

My truth in earnest,

Mocked at me.

Kite without string,

Boat without rudder,

Aimless I have wandered,

Lot of pain came,

But in silence I embraced them,

Now if You do not rise up, to help me,

With my head shall I break your marble grave.

My hands are empty,

No clothes I have,

Words come not from my blistered lips,

I am a shadow, all pass by,

Darkness is the only solace,

When my spirit and faith unite,

In dreams or in reality,

I scarce care or make a difference.

A dervish have I become,

Dancing in rapture to music of Nature,

A monk unknown, who echoes sole voice,

Of times past and life lived,

Yet none remains not shall castles be built,

Barefoot I walk, to feel the pulsating

Ground talking to me.

What choice did I have,

No proof of innocence nor the cleanliness

Of my soul,

A tree which braves many a storm,

Is often looked on with suspicious jealousy,

Hack it down,

Warm your hands on it's broken pieces,

No ears heard the pain,

Nor eyes sees the wounds.

The path is now more clear before me,

As after a storm, the forest is removed

Of weak branches and twigs,

On fire shall I walk,

But peace shall be my companion,

No desire , lust or attachments,

Enslave me, for the chain is now broken,

Monk will I become,

Teaching all who wish to learn,

The hypocrisy and narcissism of the world,

No day or night shall be long,

For finally the waves will be subdued,

And my river meet the ocean.


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