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 

My love

I roamed the world not knowing what I sought
Until I beheld your staggering beauty

In your divine presence my heart sang melodies hitherto unknown
Throwing caution to the wind I danced in your courtyard

The  people in the city think I am intoxicated
I ask them has any lover known sobriety

I wash  my excesses and capriciousness with tears of happiness in your presence
To build a palace of love in my heart for you to reside

The fortress of Ego, anger and false knowledge

I read and re-read tomes of books
To unearth how to please the beloved

And yet as I sat on top of a mountain of books
I saw the stream of knowledge flowing below

As I climbed down to drink the pure water
I saw the beloved climb up another mountain

The beloved stood on a mountain of theoretical knowledge
And built a wall of ego all around to block everyone

There was a moat full of crocodiles like anger and jealousy
And from there the beloved started the life of a despot

Thirsty and angry the beloved was locked in
Looking at me from above,refused to heed to my calls of concern

The beloved looked only at the harsh barbs that came
And not at the love which made me say things

You fail to hear me not because you are deaf, oh beloved!
You fail to hear me because you consider it beneath yourself to hear me out!

I wait encamped at the stream, waiting for the beloved
To shatter the walls, destroy the moat and come down

I wait day and night for the beloved to reason with me
And to come down and quench the insatiable thirst for knowledge