Politics Of The Soul
Politics of my soul, searched deeper in
And found you Beauty with a garland in the hand.
At the timeless spot, in the speechless corner
You garlended me with a blushing on your face.
Hand in hand we walked all around
To build a hut to live and give birth to kids.
My kids equal to the number of sandgrains on the shore
As foretold in the Testament of our lives.
Still my kids are searching for New huts and fruits
To their numberless children in and out
And they reach nowhere as their path is
Around us, we two in the centre.
Their eyes are blind and ears are deaf
They cannot feel as their senses are numb.
Still we hope they would reach
And make everything bright.