Macabre

Morose and Macabre is this thing called life
For the lover, it is ever filled with strife

Walking bare foot in the burning sands of longing
Waiting perpetually to catch a glimpse of the beloved smiling

The painful ballads sung heard not by the beloved
Hurt by unrequited wishes feeling unloved

At the temple there are many devotees praying
Will I always be the one to win grace ever lasting

Uncertainty and doubt at every turn
I watch many evil men with jealousy burn

While I come to your temple to worship with love
I see many who are with evil  hand in glove

I always worry should you grant their boon insted of mine
That would be like leaving the lion and crowning the swine

However I tell myself that there is an almighty who is just
And never shall I be hurt if I faithfully believe and trust

The fakir asks me to show me one person who sought his feet
And who was caught in a storm and lost his fleet

I realized that with the Sadguru who looks upon like a mother
We will always be with peace and happy together