Poem

Freedom of the Body, Enslavement of the Soul

Alight my uncanny heart oh! Creator,
Reverberation of pains in my heart heaps.
Not for the open gate of obtainment;
Not for the apparent restiveness of my generation;
Not for my labouring mother;
Nor for my toiling father.

Alight my uncanny heart oh! Creator,
I weep with melancholy glued to my face
Not for my mal-nutritional meals;
Not for the darkness of the night;
Nor the presences but lack of water.
Not for the liberation of your children,
For twenty children do not play for twenty years.
But, alight my uncanny heart oh! Creator,
For this pain I shall but no longer bear.

Alight my uncanny heart oh! Creator,
For your light is now made visible darkness
And we must follow the path with no other light,
If we don’t, they say demons possess your body,
If we don’t, they say we question you,
If we don’t, they rebuke us;
They carry out all form of ritual to maim us.

Alight my uncanny heart oh! Creator,
For I am given to much ramblings
But what can I do with this vulnerable body of yours?
I fear that I may be converted.
Converted but not to the wisdom of thy doctrine.
But I fear I may be converted;
To the visible dark path they conjure.

Alight my uncanny heart oh! Creator,
For I too seek the root of all evil,
But in my quest I yearn for your undiluted wisdom,
To lead the untwisted path,
For thy time draw nigh,
When thy true illumination gives immortal life.

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