Of all walks of life in the world
This is the most undemanding
And it carries a sense of fascination.

Prophets, otherwise known as
Soothsayers, or vaticinators
Or prognosticators are rare in true form
The ones influenced by
Transcendental reality
The ones endowed with balanced duality
They are obscured from the eyes of world
And only operate in sheer privacy.

But the other kinds,
Let's call them imitations,
Are scattered around in numbers
They satisfy their so-called calling
Through fear, fraud and hellfire
Think of it, if such multitude of prophets
Were benevolent in words and actions
The world would be in a better shape.

To prophesy simply means
To foretell future events
There is no hocus pocus involved
No claptrap about it
No need to swamp
The conscience with guilt
Just tidings whether good or bad
To release the emotions pent-up
Due to anxiety, doubt or dread
The fact remains that no prophet
Can always be right but even when
True prophets miss the mark
Their non-success should be regarded
As blessing in disguise.

True prophets never promote their gifts
For they do not value worldly possession
Their profit is spiritual satisfaction
In helping others to better understand
Themselves and the world around them
They fulfill a lofty purpose
Rooted deeply in their nature.

Calm down my heart
You have fought many fights
And won almost all
No more shall you be encouraged
To fight others' arguments
You have proven your warriorship
To war birds above
No more should you battle
No more should you be in the middle
Fighting for justness and honesty
This world shall never be entirely right
So rest and enjoy your remaining days
With the magic of your soft side
The side that can make a horse
Whinny with pride
The side that birds vie to possess
The side of forbearance and virtuous vibe
You were tossed into valley of shadows
And came out in one piece
Yes my heart you've earned your feathers
You were never afraid of dying of death
And at times in solitude
You sought quietus
My beloved heart
You were thrown into madness
To be trampled on to be subdued
But your resolute rebellion
Saved me from caving in
From giving up my free spirit
Now my heart you deserve quietude
Your peaceful time is on the horizon
Bask in the spirit of Sun
Settle in the silver of moonlight
And explore the skies
Of impossible dreams

Many doggedly believe there is one God
Ruling as a divine singular entity
Stamped with omnipresence
Omniscience and omnipotence
Agnostics take the safe route rather than
Shouldering such unclear creed
Atheists do away with
The existence of God altogether
And there are others who put
God's adversary on a pedestal.
It wouldn't be off base to say
Their views are self-satisfying
That they pick and choose according
To the depths of their understanding
Of course external means have a hand
In forming their ideas that may
Or may not transmute over time.

Nobody can confidently establish
The existence or non-existence of God
Whether it is all good or not so good
In terms of actions and directions
But the crux of the matter is that
Some force must represent the good in us
It might as well be God, the Almighty
The Creator, Allah, Father or any other
Handles that we may come up with
To exemplify goodness for mankind's
Perception of Devil is not all favorable.

God's spirit can be omnipresent
Only if it is residing in everything
And if that is the case, it stands to reason
That such spirit be omniscient as well
For it can sense what you and I
And other life forms are aware of
So its omniscience could be a package
Of ongoing knowledge so to speak
God's spirit can be all-powerful
Only if the entirety of human beings Resolutely believe in its omnipotence
Which is another way of saying
Fear of God begets good behavior.

Is it not wise and practical to pull God
Out of the grips of religion
Out of the clutches of theologians bent
On furthering their versions of theism
And isn't altogether safe to do away
With God as peak of authority
Perched high upon the clouds
Prepared to punish or to reward.

God's spirit can be thought of
As the epitome of collective goodness
An instrument for thwarting evil deeds
Good spirits do not give orders nor do
Intimidate and nor do misguide
They deal in uprooting mental weeds
Which disturb the thought process
As well as blurring the vision
An amazing feat sustaining flow of creed.

God's spirit or the existing goodness
In the world, serves as a shining beacon
Waiting to bring home
The vessels lost in the mist of pessimism.

Guardrail of goodness goes far and wide
Even in territories suspect
Curtailing the range of danger
And evil's prospect.

Of course bad things happen
To good people all the time
Nature's calamities and Fate's tragedies
Cannot be mastered neither can
The atrocities of unrefined minds
But the important thing is
The sustenance of goodness
For without it
Our world would sink into Hadean abyss.

Under the mango tree where the shade is dark and deep
she waits with years on her skin.

The face though weary with the burden of time
has not yielded to the fate
of having once loved and lost.

She believes the winds from the barren field
will one day carry the rustle of footsteps
raising a song from within earth
that the moment is arrived
for the dead river to rise in tides
and flood her cheeks with the sapplings of
all the unplanted kisses.

When the nights come
the fireflies would sing
love is such a beautiful thing
basking in the glow of her heart.

To survive simply means to prolong life
And for what?
God's plan or the Devil's program.

I survived many plights
Many traps I escaped from
Though I didn't know why
Was I supposed to be doing God's work?
Or was it the Devil's device
That kept me alive?
I might have been acting on instinct
Or doing the bidding of some
Unseen force interested in my survival.

I can honestly say
That I'm liable for misfortunes
Arising out of my continuity...
Why couldn't I just be laid to rest
And avoid all displeasing circumstances?
Well, such is the way of the world
One is totally unaware
Of creation's objectives
Though some may argue that the purpose
Is the flow of all living things
If so, then how do they justify
The extinction of certain species
And what about a useful tradition,
Belief or culture no longer extant
They did not possess life but
Certainly gave rise to a way of living
Others may say the intention
Is to live a long life
To reach a ripe old age
Which effects expansive experience
All the same, old age presents
Many complications
Not worth putting up with
Besides, so many young ones
Experience the butcher's knife
Through no fault of their own.

It is a given that some are born
Luckier than others
And the ratio favors the unlucky ones
Some of whom fall short of surviving
Despite their earnest efforts.

Oh, the agitation of survival.

I can straight out say that I'm a survivor
That I have passed the test of evil
And to what end:
Desertion of beauty
Exclusion of excellence
And the application of chicanery.