Oppressed.

When I walk past you,

I see, I hear, I feel the truth,

Not from your lips do I hear it,

But in your eyes I see the Reality.

All the dimensions of the spoken lies, the written masks,

End.

When I glance into the pathway to your soul,

In your eyes I see the truth.

You are a beautiful lake,

Strong, loved, Respected.

But to you I am a turbid swamp.

I feel your purity when I pass you by,

I see the truth in your eye.

I do believe that that your purity will end,

If I touch you,

My salinity will dull your sheen,

So I see the truth In your eye,

So I pass you by.

From your Lake divine, you splash some of you beautiful drops into my filth,

Purify me not but diminish the divinity of your soul.

I walk every day next to divinity

I feel the piety in your eye,

but to me I am a swamp,

so I pass you by

Before you your mother in the mountains wore this divinity,

She showed me my filth,

So who am I to even see the truth in your eye,

So I look away,

So I pass you by.

Now as I walked I saw what was below me,

I saw a beauty so angelic,

I looked away before she saw me for the filth that is I.

Now I found the celestial sky,

He Looked at me,

Asked where are you going,

I said to die,

As this filth is going to turn this palace into a sty,

So I looked away,

So I passed him by.

Then I waked to the very end of reality,

As Death stared me cold in the eye,

She asked me where are you going,

So I said, to die

When she asked me something,

Something I should have myself.

She asked me Why.

Oh! Death

The Grace of the ground is insulted,

The Purity of the sky is damaged

The Beauty of the lake is tarnished

If I live,

I am a swamp she said,

So I will die.

Death looked at me,

She asked me to look Into her eyes, Mirrors.

No Swamp Did I see, I saw a fire.

So I Pass No More,

So I Die No More,

I Am Pure.

2 thoughts on “Oppressed.

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