The part I play is struggle,servitude
Slavery,suffering,responsibility annd fear
Of the next second.
Then I called out,
Death!O death!
Please take me away,
I did not hear him speak.
I shouted harder and harder
But death seems to not
Have any perceptual power.
Death is deaf!
Since death is deaf,
I take refuge in the cousin of death-
Sleep.
All I want is a river of water.
The cousin of death
Does not flow
Rather it rains,
And it has just exhausted
It's last drop.
.
Awoke again to the torturing reality,
I can only wish,
I wish I was an angel
I would be God,
Though I wouldn't have freewill,
I would have been atleast free,
Free from the bustles,
Even the struggles and tortures of my part,
Whichever part THE DIRECTOR wishes
I would be glad to play,
'Cause every part in the scene
Of the angels is good,
Fantasy seems to be my favourite part.
Now the part I am permitted
To play is pray,
Pray that wishes be horses,
And I ride.
