blind men's god.

a poem by tailang taya, India

Stood there the figure of a man.
Crowned 2 da teeth wit a glorious fame.
Tall it stood in da centre of men's praising arena.
The sacrifice of uncounted varieties,
It savoured which in reds of blood n works of sweat.
"God indeed! No! God's betters"
Ran so da thots in da seeking hearts of lots.
Worshipped thus twice da god who in actual framed,
Us da mind n heart dat ours we claim.
Our senseless heart whispers,"Dis god is great!"
N senseless mind stops da make of common sense.
False assurance of life's immortality 2 comfort,
We clung 2gather in circle dat bigger went.
Alas! It was bt da figure of a man,
Of flesh n blood n lif wit an end.
Like flesh n fell it followed,
Da way of all da flesh which none escapes,
4 none da better which da human hand,
In corrupted selfishness so dearly claim.

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