Makes sense- no more

^{Image credits: Rasa}
Chasing it has left me devoid of myself
Who am I? I know not anymore.
Where to turn? What to pursue?
Whom to trust? I can’t discern.
This revolt within me, a fire consuming,
This world of yours O Lord, makes sense- no more.

The conquest of money and status holds no meaning
These ties that bind heighten loneliness,

When you hold the pen, the one that says Kun,
You see my cries, my plea for aid
Your silence, this heart still in turmoil, makes sense- no more

They say relief is close when the struggle is about to end
These sayings make sense- no more

I detest the norms we humans have plunged into
This marriage, that job, the kids and chores
What more? Life’s meaning makes sense- no more

This is not a mere complaint,
But a quest to unravel, to understand,
For my mind falters in darkness,
Left to wander in the void.

Patience is running thin, so is my life
If my death accounts worthless
This life all a hologram, mayhem, a chaos
I have lost before even beginning
Blinded, I can’t see the way,
Navigation beyond my grasp

Now I think, am at the brink,
Save me before I sink.
Before this heart drowns in despair,
For now, even faith feels thin.

The Answer.

You ask for purpose?
You question the ties, the circumstances,
the resources, the tests?
You asked for it, prayed for it.
Don’t you remember?
It was you who plunged into dirt.

Who valued 8.1 billion people’s opinions instead of just the One?
Whose criteria of success did you choose?
Who did you look up to in distress?
Who did you credit when you won?

You saw life drenching, soul escaping the body,
What did you learn? Mortality?
—Live only once, do whatever you want?

What end did you choose? This world as the last stage?
Or the next, and the next to come?
Where did you put your trust?
In creation that betrays, or in the Creator—the mightiest?
Whose rule book did you follow? The one who made you,
or the ones like you—ignorant?

Playing victimhood as your defense armor?
Worrying about yourself, leaving the rest – your mantra?
Being self-sufficient, self-reliant & self-made -your title?
Why distress then? Isn’t it all self-inflicted, now?

Bowing before the One liberated you from the rest.
What did you choose? The One, the 8.1 billion or worse you yourself?

Harshness on your tongue, malice in your heart, arrogance in your head.
Playing people on your whims—your agenda, your work.
Manipulation, you call it the art of dealing, tinting the truth.
Upon seeing the oppressed, you live on… unaffected.
Oppression up your sleeves, when convenient—you call it justice?
Even confusion in identity,

You cry you are lost in darkness? Look around.
Are you the victim or the real perpetrator?

There’s still time. Come back.
It’s been long; darkness your home—leave.
Mend your heart, see the truth.

My pen is waiting, Turn back,,
For even if you are at the brink,
I’ll not let you sink.

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