o awakened one

O Awakened one! how Do I wish to see,
through your bygone eyes,Those visions of beauty
How I wish My nights be same as yours,
under the blossomed stars and silver tree

I am not interested in relics or shrines,
or holy words ,even yours,or holy wines.
I want the buds of wisdom; fresh anew
in the basket of eternal river,that shines

That luminous ever; and the blameless sights,
The twisted ether; and unseen Lights,
I lust for them in my hearts purity;
grant me the vision ,from your heights..

I write

I must Write , Not in Pity,
never in vanity
or  some celestial duty.
Nay;nor in wait.For posterity
I write for the function of soul,
and endless days ,for them all.

I yearn for living, in imagination;
against the tortures of silence
of not being heard ,
sleeping on the sun.

I fret not or beg not ,
for an ordinary audience ,
I already see much of Angelic world,
beyond the futile dimension

I curse them not,
I curse me not .
No sky to buy with words,
No road to walk .

Its a howl of high times,
And I must write;
whatever little is heard,
By my mortal fingers.

Rest is lost,
In fog of time,
Eternally.

You Mock; as You may,
The seer too has,his final day.