In the terrains of infinite space and time
There sits a god playing a strange game
He holds a hand down to the valleys of the earth
A few try to touch it in all ecstasy
But he withdraws his hand!
Peace upon you all
The sermon is repeated
And the throng withers out.
But a weeping lady stays back for a while
The silence of the pulpit surrounds her.
The paradox of games sprouts.
Because of a hope spun long before
Children continue to look at the rainbow
That has cut its presence through the sky dark otherwise.
The god now begins to win over himself
In the game of a choice out of none!
With some golden dust sprayed around themselves
The sinners now sing a hymn aloud
They fly over the water laughing at the walking episode
Time moves from the plate of the dreary portals
The paradox of games blooms
The flames will soon eat up the rest
And the blue divinity will soon transform into a super cluster
Of demons and spirits haunting the past.
The tale of resurrection will still be told
And a crowd will open its new ears for listening.
The paradox of a human concern is burnt alive!
M.D Dinesh Nair
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-paradox-of-our-times/
