The Saviour

Behold, how horribly the hungry Fire gapes at us like a python, like a ravenous whale and like the Bermuda Triangle. How terribly the maddened Fire devours bricks and stones, and drinks all the snow-hills like a tasty wine! Like a demon, the Fire eats crunching the bones of Cain and the skeleton of Lahab*, eats like the kernel of a palm uprooting the blue eyes of Genghis. Where are you running fast, o Man, like a bewildered horse? O the lost horse, where are you going madly raising your tail? Breaking down the wall of sight, behold, how horribly the Fire gapes at us! It is is such a fire which devours not only our body but also our invisible soul. Like a rat, it eats into the coconut of our heart bit by bit. There is no Jesus more who will absorb all your sins in his cross. There is no Gautama more who will play the flute of wisdom sitting under the shade of the pee-pul tree. There is no Krisna more who will pour down a cloud of love into the thirsty eyes of Radha. There is no Mohammad more who will save you running from the clutch of the hungry Fire. O Man, O Horse, O Bull, There is no prophet more, keep it in your mind. Keep in mind, there is no saviour more except a love-lorn poet. * the enemy of prophet Mohammad(sm