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Eslam Dabank Oct 2022
Nobility divine fills gaps of transcendence,
    Soars to and from the throne heavenly,
Exalts morals near the king of ascendance,
    Patrolling the good, and sons of the seventy.

A duty forgotten, replaced with dependence,
    On prayers rarely heard, and logic of a herd -
Divinity is far in absence; man in attendance,
    The book is a third, and teachings are blurred.

Andeliviuan corruption supposedly erased:
    The creation rotten of Sariel, wanders gaily.
The holy and fallen angel’s doing embraced,
    By the clay beings caressing evil like a frailly.

By God not, who from heaven him displaced.
    Yet, the legacy of the wrong stands humanly,
In Thailand, America, Palestine, and all graced -
     A grace of sinfulness celestial and worldly.  

Religion is the poor’s only ultimate truth,
     the rich’s side hustle, and the rulers’ tool;
It is the loss of power that defiles the sooth,
    The one the poor has not, but does the fool.

Robbers’ servants, bread crumbs consumers,
    Toothless **** dogs, emaciated lost tramps,
Little blind pawns, vultures’ puppets, tumours,
    And wrenches they are, the upper hand’s lambs.

If only Raguel’s judgements fall upon man,
    Raphael’s punishment beautifies this existence,
Gabriel’s wrath makes not all humans ane,
    And Michael saves us, the Sarahs, in assistance.

In the heart deepened with old repression,
   That mounts with plenitude of filtered feels,
Resides a universe yearning for expression,
    In a meat clay who feeds on calories of meals.

Man, in the genesis, in the light, in the dark,
    In prosperity, in turmoil, triumphed with vices;
vileness, abuse, wreckage is our sole mark,
    On this planet whose population is in slices.
Saurya Jan 2021
Between judging the good and the dead,
I lose myself in the cacophony of lies, made my men,
Amid the hustling and jostling of interests, lies and deceit
I scream!
my voice is muffled by a black cloth,
which covered eyes of Themis, now unfurled, tied my voice,
So, none can hear, my cries,
I am a man, I have a spirit, my bliss cannot live in lies and deceit!

I lose myself, split of a second,
A place where I find solace for my heart,
Split second of servitude for God,
And that is enough! To lead me away from temptations!
I look at men in blood, fresh, for petty wealth, and I see God!
I look at black coats, standing for Good and evil for wealth, and I see God!
Who am I to judge?
I see and witness unfurling of time, and my mind rests at His foot!
For all is lights and shadow!
I am at peace, being a witness of His work.
Om Tat Sat!

© Saurya 7th Jan 21
I wrote my emotions, having received an acknowledgement of my one liner, "so true, manifesting good thoughts by a judge" I ponder, as we trapped in worldly struggle, still find time to love and pray, and think good for others! what is it if not a 'prayer', and that split second of bliss, makes us see all as God, and self as witness, where happiness is in servitude!
Confronting
the devil’s lawyer
destiny entwined

Heaven and Hell
in the jury box
fate was on the line

The judge
Archangel Raguel
his verdict waits to scream

A sentence cast
in fire untold
— to **** the evil dream

(Dreamsleep: August, 2025)

— The End —