The unknown presence
I think I have been living in a castle of reasons
To which I am the volunteered satrap,
amidst isms, mere human abstractions,
shaping the world with thoughts, my own creations.
For I have indeed become oblivious to the world.
What world is this that lives forever unknown?
Our questions rebound bringing no answers back.
As to what I think I have been losing track.
There are realms by human knowledge unexplored
to where this puerile mind does often drift.
Quite unlike in the clasps of a rigid society,
Where an eager child lives with murdered curiosity.
I have questioned the basis of Truth
And urged to know the purpose of Science
But I found no answer convincing enough,
For the more I brood, the less I seem to find
This proud human race boasts of achievements
Of discovering things and all that it invents,
But nothing has ever been enough to ascertain
where the souls departing from this world went...
This lack of answer fills me from inside,
Like a vacuum, its pressure builds steadily within.
I twitch uncomfortably from side to side
Seeking desolate corners to run and hide.
An unknown presence fills the frigid air;
it looms about like a ghostly augury.
Someone, cold as ice, as if is watching
from the folds of mountains, distant, somewhere.
What do these dark forests hide in them?
What mountains are they that rise above so high?
What secret harbours this unrelenting sky?
These questions only echo as silent cries
In an effort to seek answers I have come here,
climbing mountain paths like some old seer.
I'm faced with but the quietude of the skies:
The presence before which all absences die
To which I am the volunteered satrap,
amidst isms, mere human abstractions,
shaping the world with thoughts, my own creations.
For I have indeed become oblivious to the world.
What world is this that lives forever unknown?
Our questions rebound bringing no answers back.
As to what I think I have been losing track.
There are realms by human knowledge unexplored
to where this puerile mind does often drift.
Quite unlike in the clasps of a rigid society,
Where an eager child lives with murdered curiosity.
I have questioned the basis of Truth
And urged to know the purpose of Science
But I found no answer convincing enough,
For the more I brood, the less I seem to find
This proud human race boasts of achievements
Of discovering things and all that it invents,
But nothing has ever been enough to ascertain
where the souls departing from this world went...
This lack of answer fills me from inside,
Like a vacuum, its pressure builds steadily within.
I twitch uncomfortably from side to side
Seeking desolate corners to run and hide.
An unknown presence fills the frigid air;
it looms about like a ghostly augury.
Someone, cold as ice, as if is watching
from the folds of mountains, distant, somewhere.
What do these dark forests hide in them?
What mountains are they that rise above so high?
What secret harbours this unrelenting sky?
These questions only echo as silent cries
In an effort to seek answers I have come here,
climbing mountain paths like some old seer.
I'm faced with but the quietude of the skies:
The presence before which all absences die
Vidyanjali.
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