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I am running on a blade my dear
And my world is approaching doom
I am relentlessly moving so
From the dark world to the next gloom
So I am trying to gather all
The tattered pages of my life
Defeated I am for many times
Would you like to play drum and fife?
When you would deprive me of your light
Your blessings would surely abate
Then I would not pray but concentrate
And wait for thoughts to precipitate

I am not looking for your support
Or any kind of help - you may
I am ready to face by my own
I am not clutching any hay
I would prefer to die on the field
Than to live and capitulate
I am not that person to bow down
Because I am an apostate
When you would be really angry
And you would want to change my fate
Then I would not pray but concentrate
And wait for thoughts to precipitate

As you are not my chosen shepherd
I won’t follow the herd or bray
You may put me in the dark abyss
Still I would never stop and pray
I know for sure, there is no heaven
And fairy tales of airy Gods
Who never speaks to any person
Nor he protects or moves and nods
When I am sure that he would be dumb
Even if terrors ululate
Then I would not pray but concentrate
And wait for thoughts to precipitate

29.09.16

The rewritten poem is given below :

I am running on a chancy road
and my world is approaching doom
I am relentlessly moving so - 
from one darkness to the next gloom
So, I am trying to gather all - 
the tattered pages of my life
Defeated -  I am -  for many times;
would you like to play drum and fife?
When you would deprive me  - of your light;
your blessings would surely abate
Then I would not pray but concentrate
and wait for thoughts to precipitate

I am not expecting your kindness
or kneeling down with folded hands
I am ready to face on my own - 
though my feet are on the quicksand
I would prefer to die on the field
than to live and capitulate
I am not the person who bows down - 
because, I am an apostate
When you would be really angry
and you would want to change my fate
Then I would not pray but concentrate
and wait for thoughts to precipitate

As you are not my chosen shepherd, 
I won’t follow the herd and stray
You may put me in the dark abyss - 
still, I would never stop and pray
I know for sure - there is no heaven
and fairy tales of airy God
Who never speaks to any person
nor he protects or moves and nods
When I am sure that he would be dumb,
even if terrors ululate
Then I would not pray but concentrate
and wait for thoughts to precipitate

21.10.2016
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