Poem: Tyrants and Hypocrites

Tyrants and hypocrites

 

To my little mind

Seems a lie what is the truth

More doors to Heaven than there are to Hell

More hypocrites than there are tyrants

But tyrants and hypocrites are here all in all

 

Emotions too early, sense too weak

More words than there are swords

More thoughts than words

Land of the Pure is pure enough

Pure enough in tyrants and hypocrites

 

Smile, for the people have Faith

Faith in God

Millions of people, millions of gods

People who cry are happy enough

No cries for tyrants and hypocrites

 

Shatter the mirror precisely

Until it becomes seventy-three

Boom! And the world doesn’t go round anymore

Salvation is in pain, relief is in pain

Do I find Him in a tyrant or a hypocrite?

 

 

Cry, cry you hypocrite

Screech in pain

Tyrants don’t oppress the pure, tyrants can’t

Do the pores on your head hurt enough?

Or are you still there where you were?

 

Melodies to my ear, melodies to my heart

Screech in pain

The rich wounded at mind

Hollow at heart

The poor, a hypocrite, a tyrant and a hypocrite again

 

Give it to us in a jug

Now you weep when we drink?

I am a rebellious slave

Lust for the woman you have had

Is rare for a tyrant and a hypocrite

 

You Reader! Is it not a miracle?

Understanding words behind words

No, there is no miracle but One

God does not understand how petty I am

God does not see in me a tyrant or a hypocrite

 

 

Where sentences have meaning behind them

Poetry has it in front

What is man but a poem?

If you can ruin body without soul

Skin the apple and tell me it remains white

 

You don’t have two souls

Pray with one

There is no third option

What are you:

A tyrant or a hypocrite?