What remains to be said of this maker of verses?
You inquire after his diversion, his hobby?
His true reflection has faded from this world,
A world that transacts only in hunger,
Where the coin of wisdom holds no currency,
And no dawn breaks for the enlightened mind.
He is fed the bitter gall of conformity, mistaking it for sacred nectar.
Fool! Cast off this borrowed robe!
Better to don the humble cloth of the honest laborer,
And tend to the simple, sacred truths of the hearth.
Behold the hollow man of this barren age,
His life stripped of all its golden resonance.
For he bartered his childhood wonder—his priceless muse—
For a handful of dust, and called it art.
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Author:
Mottakeenur Rehman (
Offline) - Published: December 21st, 2025 08:40
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 16
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
Offline)
Comments1
Wow! such powerful words that speak to the heart of conformity and obedience subjugation to authority and the expectations of the masses. There is defiance in these words and warning a prophesy for poets. One must know the rules before one is allowed to break them but once known there is freedom in choice and courage in defiance. A lovely write and a fave
This means more than you know. Thank you for not just reading the words, but truly hearing them. It’s a gift to have a reader who understands the defiance and the love behind it.
You are most welcome my friend
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