The Mistaken Who Mistook
No citadel’s too tall for mortals like you.
Even acclivity of mounts fear of bipeds like you.
Adam’s ale in its ampleness has lost its meaning.
And only with your condonance,
do the flowers un-bud and birds do sing.
But let’s see, if this almighty can pass in my little catechism;
And a test it is; shouldn’t be misconceived with any criticism:
So, in the unfolding, will you also make the butterfly to unfold,
its hued aileron as per your yearn and control?
And As per your hankering, will you as well repaint,
the black calamus of the cormorant?
What has been quenching the thirst for years,
will now go from blue to black?
will you do all this to everyone and
Then save yourself the flak?
Will the new clock scoot a tick?
The viaducts have no brick?
Will the berdas rumble and the cougars sing?
Will the off-springs dummy up their begetters in the forthcoming?
Succumb or give an answer, are the only ways you’ve got!
Cause’ what you’ve been doing, I dub it as prying.
And there exists no amnesty for what you’ve been trying.
You’ve been a fine jeweler for the prime;
Validating the originality of a corundum’s been your style.
So how come you changed your vogue; negative appraisal is all you report?
Since when were you born with the power to transmogrify?
One could not get to azure, if you ever denied?
It’s never too late for home, even if you start back today,
You’re never too late for home, if you grow into a new You on the way.
You’ve been vexing the orb for years and yet go on, cause it owns no speech.
Narcissistic you are I hate to say; You never did as you preached.
But you still get a chance, to outweigh all your flaws,
Capitulate to the architect; cause he’s the only one who knows,
How the orb would relearn to live and the art for the orb to re-grow.
To bend is not for the anemic; But for those who aspire to learn.
Meek you’re not but strong enough to have ‘to be transformed’, as what you yearn.
Believe me when you reach home today,
they will get to see the stronger You.
For yes, I’d still like to admit
No citadel’s too tall for a mortal like you.
Copyright © Raadhika Sharma | Year Posted 2012
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