The Blind Beggar.

Lahore, Oldie but goldie, Poetry

I’m a blind beggar
Groping my way forward
To something I cannot see,
Only lead by Mirages
& Voices that tempt me
Into having faith in the unseen
Which has never been
Something that I can understand.
Sometimes, they lead me
Into traps & pits,
With sweet, sweet words;
Sometimes, they lift my spirit
To the heavens up above in ecstasy,
With stinging, hurtful prods.
My ignorance is a curse,
For I can follow & but not see
To believe.
My ignorance is my Messiah,
For it frees me from Desire,
Which binds me to my body,
& tears my soul from me.



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