A Song of Sorrow
….ah! Life so beautiful and tempting yet it has its own share of gloomy moments.
….what a beauty life holds in its swarms and in the isolation. A lone tree on an isolated mound in a remote far-off land knows this; a tiny flickering candle glowing in an immense darkness knows this too.
….the living ones hold a frightening sense of existence! With all the lonely emptiness of the void they hold in their terribly weak heart, they are condemned to live in this barren endless eternity. They live on awfully shaken, consuming half-filled desires, shedding wasteful degraded life moment by moment. Their lone joy is to search for meaning in this meaningless world.
….a flock of birds flies high up in the air and in the evening return with vacant bellies and look for next morn’ sun enclosing young ones under their cold wings. Skinny herds of cattle abandon dried up meadows and move miles on in the blazing sun looking for fresh green grass and waterholes.
….desires swarm up and flourish in the hideous chambers. Before that they have stomached horrible loneliness to the extent of annihilation. Now they are greedy enough to suck up the last drop of charm from the broken vessel of life.
….a little life germinates in the putrid drain and yet happy to survive consuming half-decayed matter. It survives in its vain hope for the day when it will get liberation from soggy surrounds.
….Beauty delights every other. Beauty they say is the life of life! Yet bleak sorrows survive in the most beautiful minds. The beautiful minds are forever condemned to be alone. Masses of people most often swarms up around ugliest expression of desires. They never value aesthetics of immaculate beauty yet nevertheless crowd up for sensuous delights.
….a little joy wells up in a dreary mind. A flying eagle of misery comes down and catches hold of it. Happy she is to eat the joy and waiting for the next joy to come to life.
….feelings in the long run create indifference to their own beings. Old worn out emotions don’t live long. They merely produce masked faces. Some truly great emotions have atrophied themselves for the want of proper expressions.
….liberation of the souls is in the hands of those who first discipline the souls. They first put heavy chains to many innocent natural needs of the soul then ask her to say “I am free”.
A Song of Sorrow