I saw a man walk slowly down the road, A husk of selt crippled and alone, His body bent and broken like a twig, One foot a stump encased in a black boot That trailed along and scraped the reddened dust. Why did the wind not take him in its arms, How could he stay so grounded yet so frail? Did some malignant puppeteer create This grotesque form, this caricature of man Or did his karma necessitate this trial? The tears poured from my eyes, they would not stop The cataract of sorrow from my heart, For as before I realized he was I, Being of my being, soul of my soul Who lives in me as I limp and seek my way. I cannot ease the pain nor can I heal The wounds of a weary world now gone awry. I reason not why we live and how we die But know that all my days are blind until I find the truth that all this seeming hides .
Poems Undated (1727)
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Narad
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