The Idolatry

The Sun as usual rode its beaten path,

On the daze of Afternoon, Frtiz,

Got up from the grass,

His body benumbed with sleep.

He was possessed with the God,

Here keep the divine dome,

Drawing an imaginary cross,

He fell silent like parched paste tube,

Which evinced his artist’s skills,

There was misery endless like,

Rope burnt on its ends,

And wondered if the ends would meet?

He had alms for the summer!

Foaming as supple froth on sea beach,

He had many coins for a pauper,

Bursting upon the fashion Parade,

Those loose love who make statues of Gods,

And damsels Whose language foul love,

Then he met the stranger,

Who came up to his garden,

Kindling a desire though saddened,

Within, you must save your soul,

Not the world beyond.

 

And he became a rascal,

On the loose for the triad,

But he kept his date with,

Damsel and the God,

Who having expelled Eve,

Would propel the divine,

Thought, naught!

Like sword finding in sheath,

Its fate, he got up to reach,

For damsel in meeting with,

His own character and,

The hollowed voice,

Asked him to forever wait,

In abeyance of his own image,

For The Almighty God!

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