Tears of Passion

From infancy to old-age, sure enough to find,
An incessant struggle to quench the thirst of curiosity.
Seemingly satiable, of things so mortal and kind
That has bound us all in this paradigm of hostility.

Hostility in disguise of intermittent happiness,
Of promising hopes and aspirations since long.
Happiness so dear but it comes and goes
Like the fireflies in the dusk or the tunes of a song.

Certainly not can happiness be found
In such mental erudition and false adoration.
In the name of curiosity, I weep tears of passion
Still, Curiosity is something that sounds so profound

Necessity is the mother of invention, sounds so literal
But how necessary is it to have desires so artificial.
Insatiable are the desires born out of concoction
And being desireless is never ever an option.

When misfortune staggered the eyes,
Like the sight of water running up hill,
Where were you O Curiosity of desires?
Vanquished in the darkness, of satire and tranquil.

Sitting in Ivory tower, I aspire for appreciation
Appreciation and honor so gross in complexion
In the name of erudition I weep tears of passion
Still, erudition is something that fuels my passion

I find no other shelter than the divine feet of Lord
The supreme proprietor and the source of all,
whose temples and palaces did seem to concord,
like fabrics of enchantment piled to Heavenly call.

Empower me O lord to use my erudition
In the service of yours for ever and ever
Then only can my eyes render me vision
And tears of passion will seldom occur again.

Image Source: Abstract Moods – Robin Olsen

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