Behold around thru' the bustling streets,
Honking cars and phoney greets,
All for swanking fake delight,
As the moon flaunts white sunlight.
There behold; a man walks gay,
Clad in ivory, perhaps to pray.
The mosque stands Godly; tall and wide,
For each a man to pray inside.
To send their offerings to the Lord,
Enwrapp'd in a cloud of vagarious words;
Of anguish, joy and sweet desires,
And flames too; at times of scornful fires.
They're all crimson deep inside,
There's one recluse and just one guide.
They bleed not blue on earthen chest,
Lash not 'em with stern behest.
Miles a few and behold again,
A hermit walks 'neath doughy rain.
Saffron attire and a thread dull white,
Chanting scriptures in broad daylight.
He's scurrying in haste to pray the same,
To send his offerings in His name.
Quiet and tranquil prays he hours,
With incense sticks and a basket flowers.
Divine grace shall be bestowed,
That's the purpose for his ode.
One fine day in arms of God,
He must leave his mortal abode.
Miles few more thru' the heaths too bare,
Stands a church for men to stare.
And there's a Lord inside; they say,
And thus they come too oft to pray.
Jesus; thy holiness must to man,
Be shower'd upon this sinful clan.
Purge 'em clean off sins and ire,
Let 'em burn in thy divine fire.
They chant these words and pray in peace,
To be enwrapped in eternal bliss.
The father stands with a bible wide,
To implore to Lord to be his guide.
They all pray and pray to one,
They all pray beneath the sun.
There's a soul; divine and pure,
Beyond the walls of brute censure.
He's the one who drives each air,
To fulfill all that's true and fair.
He's the one whose holy arms,
Created a world of bliss and charm.
Build no walls to break His heart,
And spill dark mire upon His art.
Let not ogres from dreary hell,
Allure our souls to their treacherous spell.
'Tis ne'er humane to slay off men,
And shower rains of bleak disdain.
Humanity is beyond all caste,
And beyond all religions on this crust.
Here today I implore to thee,
Thy souls deserve a world that's free,
Free of hatred, ire and sorrow,
And free of walls that shall ruin the morrow.
Break all walls and befriend each one,
Embrace the morning with a smiling sun.
Let not hatred return to thee,
Thy souls deserve a world that's free.
© Dipanjan Bhattacharjee
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