Chaotic disembodied feelings
Moved your pen
To record what they meant
Scribbled lines with urgency
An act of communion
Yet, you succumbed to temptation
Vanity stepped in
Words emerged with rhythmic cadence,
You created a thing of beauty
It shone bright like the Moon in the dark sky
But, there was no illumination for humanity
You revered art to be
Reflection of your truest belief
Unmasking of your deepest thoughts,
Every poem a confession,
To bring you closer to Him
Scratched them off the page-
With singular vehemence,
Tried to hide the fruits of sin
You deceived the pen
Strangled your core beliefs
You allowed your populist instinct win
Now the words arrive
Like swarm of locust invading a field
You write again,
Possessed by the Spirit
No beauty in them,
Only pressing necessity
The lines begin to emerge
Swirling mist coalesce in concrete
Their whispers echo in your being
They ask you not to stop
They implore you to let them come out
They plead you to let them live
Mundane picture they draw
Perhaps not worthy of the canvas
They get painted upon
Like millions of nameless faceless children-
In the deepest recess of anonymity-
Your poem is born
Now the poem - it breathes
The way it was meant to do
Naked in the light of day
It is your child born out of purity
With folded hands you pray:
\"I hereby beseech Thee
To exorcise me of the demon of vanity.
---
Please give me courage to be true
I shall tell my poems-
O\' my children - do accept my apology-
for your humble beginnings
I couldn\'t create you in right context
I groped for words
Like a blind man in unfamiliar place
I didn\'t know how with flowers
A garland to make
---
I did my best to make you the best
But being of modest artistry - I failed
Yet, I shall not be ashamed of my being
Even He creates mediocrity like me
---
I shall ask the Lord
To redeem my greatest sin -
I made the world a proxy villain
In the battle of faith and vanity-
I fight within\"