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?