Transmutation


Transmutation

                        Transmutation

I won’t miss the sun, it’s light nor it’s warmth
I won’t miss the pale dawn nor the grey dusk
Nor the starry nights with the breeze so mild and soothing
That penetrates through the breast where hearts are aching

I won’t care if flowers fade, in them there’ll be no beauty
I won’t care if the birds will sing not the song of liberty
If the seas will run dry and skies will turn to black
And man will have the all the wars and peace they lack

          if they’ll make me hungry
               the bread I’ll eat not
          if they’ll make me thirsty
               the wine I’ll sip not
          if they’ll make me lifeless
               I’ll be living
          if they’ll make me motionless
               I’ll be moving

          I can’t be scented
               I’ll have no odor
          I won’t fade
               I’ll have no color
          I can’t be molded
               I’ll be shapeless
          I won’t grow old
               I’ll be ageless

          They’ll make me dumb
               but I can loudly shout
          That the seeds I’ve sown
               all began to sprout
          Then there’ll be no yesterday
               there’ll be no tomorrow
          There’ll be pure joy
               there’ll be no sorrow

          At last I’ll find all the glories
               no more life’s storm
          I’ll remember not my sad stories
               only my long-dreamt rainbows form

I’m tired of being alive, and who is not?
Who’ll watch the play when performers rot?
We all saw it but only few like to stare
And the characters said they don’t care
As long as they can show to us who they are
By changing love stories into stories of war
They can’t hear us with our soft whisper
For their dreams are as deafening as thunder
We have the preacher’s music but it’s all in vain
All of us heard but only a few cared to listen
When shall we learn to stick to the words?
shall we when we’ll be pierced with swords?

                                                 by doroastig
                                                 sometime in the mid’75



I wrote this almost forty years ago when the time was so harsh. When I did this, my vision was blurred that I was not able to see lightnings, only the roar of thunder. That was the time I transformed myself.

Now I am awaken and can clearly see the lightning and hear its roaring thunder. The thunder I heard forty years ago was just a drum beaten to make people believe there was a storm, unlike the present situation when the storm is a real one. If I have transformed myself with a man-made storm then, how much more with a real one now?





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