shaktha

master..

thakshaka..

whispers..

tight..

the coil

holds

the feet..

..

..

how can

i

leave

you..

master..

you

are

my

dearest

friend..

none has

ever

cared

the way

you have..

all hate

my fangs..

my venom..

when i

am sent

to release

them..

none

but you

has ever

seen

any good

in me..

o master..

my very life..

you

have become..

..

..

..

o friend..

of my soul..

that has ever

been blind

to

my form..

..

..

do you

also

not see

master..

with

my release..

you..

too

must leave

..

..

..?

little hands

embrace

the dearest

friend

to have ever

lived

breathed

in

all of

dear creation..

..

..

who can

leave

a friend

as this..

..

..

except

this blind

fool

that

is me..

who can leave

such love

such warmth..

..

..

..

except

the beggar’s child

that came

with riches..

with tears

smiles..

with

a useful

form..

..

..

..

that must

complete

the circle..

of universal will..

just a poem

from

dear brahma's

script..

and return

without

any of this..

without even

their ashes..

this dearest

mud..

do feel

free

dear friend..

do please

leave

dear friend..

..

..

ears hear

dear voice

utter..

so soft

so warm..

a soothing

balm..

for

the very soul..

..

..

what i lose

is only

form..

i return

with riches..

my friend..

i return

as king..

i choose

to remain

the child

unborn..