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Poem

Awake was the night varnished dark 
And bright was the thunder fierce, 
Swept the winds the landscape
And leapt the lightning on the sky
Like wildfires dancing in a forest.

Such was the nature's thrill furious 
That doomed to sleep was the night 
When struck in bounty the disaster,
The lightning sprang out its fangs 
To fall on the temple of my love.

Years it took me to build the temple,
In a stroke in ruins had fallen its walls  
And fractured was my brazen ego,
On fire was the stack of scriptures
Me had penned down in vain on love.

Dauntless I sifted the debris run amok 
To salvage my esteem to reconnect
And in the ruins disheveled of my vaunt
Still lay the statue of the Goddess
Of my love in her smile of clay.

Wept I numbed for days at my misery
And flowed down the tears brimful
Which helped douse the fire fateful,
Still the scriptures were lost forever
Only remained were their lonely ashes.

A miracle, salvaged was the statue,
Someday rebuild I will the temple 
With my hands slowed down by age
And perhaps will rewrite in melancholy
The scriptures with a mind inflamed.

Needs the temple a devotee engaged
And a devotee needs its idol immortal,
So, in peace I wait for her call aspiring
With embers of hope still not dimmed
To install the statue on its pedestal.

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