O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN!!
I am a god and this world I made,
Where light once danced and dreams once played.
There's a house where a little boy stayed.
A little boy called out my name,
Wishing for more than just normal worldly game.
I held his hand while he lay asleep,
I called to him from slumber deep.
I saw his face, so pale and still,
When he opens his eyes and saw me,
And asked, "Are you the god who will?"
I simply nodded, lost in graze.
"Can you help?" , He softly said.
A voice so faint, so filled with dread.
But I, the poorest of all-
I can't bestow what mortal call.
A piece of soul, or gift of gold,
My power faint, my hand grown cold.
He hoped in me-I let him down,
A god in shame, without a crown.
Tears ran wild, I gripped his hand,
He asked again to understand:
"Can you help me, make me sound?
A picture of me music around."
But I stood silent, weak, and torn.
The second passed; his eyes grew still.
I stood in silence, felt the chill,
I turned away, my heart like lead.
I could not steal him back from dead.
No breath to give, no life to lend,
Not even comfort at the end.
A fading god with empty hand.
Too weak to help, to understand.
I am the poorest god who holds no power,
To give his own soul in that final hour.
I am that God who failed the boy's last plea,
To change the script and set him free.
By Vedanta Anagha (Mayank Tripathi)
This poem I created is just to question you all that, WHY WE WORSHIP A GOD HOW CAN'T EVER CHANGE ANYONES LAST FUTURE?
IF THIS HAPPED TO REAL LIFE, IF GOD HAVE NO POWER TO CHANGE ANY THING, SO YOU GOING TO WORSHIP HIM AS GOD?
This poem I give to every person how are unable to save there love ones, they just stand there helpless, hopeless.