The Muse

There exists a universe where I'm known as Lima. You aren't allowed there.
There exists another universe in which Lima walks. You are already here.
You have entered because you can appreciate style while ignoring content. You had been warned.
P.S. Don't bash me up if you find haiku or plain prose here.

Saturday, February 2, 2013

The Road to Paradise

In the spire of dreams I dwell
Ketaki is my name,
From my lofty perch I spy
My maker's lofty game

My maker does make many worlds
Filled with peaks and vales,
And peoples of a myriad kind   
Starring in myriad tales               

They live in vain it seems to me
And die in equal vain,              
They live in hope of paradise
But all they get is pain

Grieved by all their futile ways
My maker, I advise
Please build them a road, my Lord
A road to the paradise

The road is always there, my child
It shines by the light of my eyes
'Tis visible even from thy abode
My road to paradise

Atop the spire of dreams I spy
And sure as day it lies
Gleaming 'neath the moonlit sky
The road to paradise

Go then to the golden end
And set the standard gold
Lead then thou my children on
The road to Paradise

I descend therefore, I take the path
But the sheer length exhausts me
I crawl and walk and run toward 
The road to paradise

Somewhere along that lonely trail
I perceive some company
Delighted thus I journey on
The road to paradise

Presently our merry mob
Ceases to be One
And before we know it, we've left
The road to paradise

Distracted by our many-ness
Branded as kin or foe
We play our silly games around
The road to paradise

And in this semi-ignorance
We're born and we live and die
Never free yet never bound to  
The road to paradise

Like a poem stumbles on metric feet
From abstraction to verse
Some of our numbers recall            
The road to paradise

They scratch their heads and search their hearts       
And trace their tracks and roots
And remember My descent into
The road to paradise

For I was neither born nor dead
Not of this world was I
I was a lonely treader of
The road to paradise

And from my sheer single-ness
I constructed the throng
And therefore dug a pothole in
The road to paradise

Through this game of lost and found
My Maker did admonish
Know thyself and know thee thus
The road IS paradise
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