If the Gods Aren'T Sick, Then Crazy They Must Be

I felt the touch of the breeze on my face from my sleep Oh! With the morning sun, i woke with a flip And there staring at me, is a lady in her teen I, surprised but not frightened Gave her a questioning look "Who are you?"; I asked as an imaginary atmosphere pooled And searched for ready-made answers in her open-eye book " I am your lady"; said she With a voice that seems to flee "Lady?"; I asked with a confusion which she can see Coyly, she replied " your woman to be" Again I was stunned, first her presence and what her mouth spilled And after the little interview entered a convoy, my old folks and the priest Who wrapped himself in a sash and hands filled with beech "This is whom the gods hath avowed on thee" The priest said in a voice booming and deep The lady, ...my woman to be, looked down and never up at her feet Like forever it seems As different thoughts ran through my mind I? A lady? The gods? Are they so blind? I didn't even ask to marry I was praying for a few millions to carry Never even thought..., then how could this be? The lady stood in a glowing ebony skin And a beautiful mark was boldly etched on her chin With complete illiteracy obviously on her body was written No! No! I can't accept; this pleasant morning gift isn't for me Because her plump body like cheese Doesn't even come near my please And so is the skin of hers, lathered with grease Waking me from my trance, the priest said out of believe "The gods have destined you together; so will you certainly follow their will; you will love each other for eternity they said" And I watched the morning broadcaster who has a divine anchor on display Until after his silence, I shifted looks from the priest to the lady And ended the travelling gaze on my old folks' faces And there they are, with gestures of joy extremely ablaze Then I remembered, they are all of same believe; living in the same sheath While I on the outer-space live away barricaded by a shield Then I decided on the instant Forever my heart will be resistant Even while the priest continued to boast of how I and my undecided-betrothed lady will live together for many years so Confidently, the priest said "When the gods said it will be love at first sight..., but now it shows" I guess the priest, and the gods didn't see the heart of me, as hard as stone In my decision, this plight will end tomorrow If my folks continue to insist And the viral believe continue and persist Then I will leave for them their world and find for myself another world free from hypocritical mists But I continue to think When no alternative exists than to migrate, and as days with nights blink Remembering what the priest said, "thou both shall produce, of many children on the gods wings" Are the gods sick? If not why would they divine events which has streaks of babels Certainly, if they aren't sick, then they must be crazy. THE GODS MUST BE CRAZY - poetry contest