How much more !

The unresolved quotient of my identity is the cause of my conflict,

Your being a part of me adds to the plight,

In the business of my love why this pain do pry,

How much more, how much more my heart still cry!

 

The revelation of me is not my aim,

It is the point for my journey to begin,

Don’t ask my aim as you are a part of the whole,

Life is not a station; it’s a train for the goal,

 

Subduing myself changes my color,

The hues of the common, covers my being,

Then mirror tells me the truth , it is not the color for you,

So have some mercy and reveal the self of you,

 

If it is not a crime to be common, I am open to be a sheep,

Then be my shepherd and guide me to the end,

But the common is not for you and their color is not for me,

Divine that you are, let not the divinity from me bend,

 

The beggar is a beggar till he is given the alms,

When I posses your love I become the master of my palms,

They say there are no lines in my palms for love any more,

I said, I will find my love till the pain holds no more.

 

How much more, how much more, my soul does cry,

In the business of my love why this pain do pry,

My soul cherish the agony as a child of my love,

How much more how much more my heart still cry!

 

In the solace of the darkness the poet hides his being,

In the smoke of the cigarette he exhales his sufferings,

Should he share his grief is the question he asks,

Would you ease the pain,  in your light shall his heart bask,

 

Does the sharing of my suffering bring any pangs to my love?

Then mum is the word and I shall silently burn myself,

If the love is that it brings then I shall suffer some more,

No more will I ask, how much more, how much more!

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