Whatever comes to my mind, is a funny kind of bind,
When your heart feels blind, but then you remind,
Your SELF, that it’s all ok, even though, just the other day,
You had to pay, for a previous melee, when you chose the wrong way.
As your mind danced, in that madman party,
Jiving away on the winds of insanity,
While your desires rotted in veins of depravity,
And your senility rocked your civility, to the depths of inhumanity.
Please pay attention on those streets of desire, as they finagle,
In the scrabble, of where wise words won’t dabble,
Because it they are insanely chaotic, psychotic and utterly erotic,
Should I dare say, “melancholic”
But saddened and such, your heart burns for a loving touch,
Of a Love divine to make you feel whole,
But you are amiss; thinking the Lord above does not “kiss”….
You and everyone in every which way, as soul.
Indeed, there is never a day, that your Lord does delay,
or hold back thy unconditional love – Neigh.
Trust me this one time, as I try to make sense in rhyme,
And release from my heart the internal sunrays.
On this night of unrest, I declare: I shall continue my quest,
For the very best, in all things moral and pure — no less,
Things that thrill my heart and save my soul,
And never leave me old holding an empty bowl…
Dying like a poor man, unloved and forgotten,
As his heart burns with anguish of a soul gone rotten,
Because one day, he forgot, to remember his Lord,
Which led to his demise and total discord…
With the harmony of the world, as hell sirens unfurled,
Their ravenous assault on his heart,
Leaving him scattered in pity, and plates full of dim witty,
In a house of ruin, scorn, and torn apart.
Oh, this shall not be,” said that Prince in me,
I stand strong — I am full of pride,
My blood is royal – of the highest stock loyal,
I know this for certain, as I watch my time subside…
And tick away in spades, as my heart cries razor blades,
And the courage inside me, discarded like a bow,
That was once strung tight, to the shoulder of Trust,
wrapped in the cloth of faith, not the shawl of lust.
From this day on, I declare with passion so bold,
That the “Prince Priyavrata” would never grow old,
Or frail in heart, or weak in mind,
But strong like a Lion, leaving all challenges behind!
Those challenges hid in shadow wells, but spread a sorry smell,
Like a snort from hell, as the temple bell rang and then fell,
And the “children of hope” screamed in sorry pain,
As the sun set swiftly and the clouds brought dark rain.
But alas, by the Grace of Prabhupad’s pen, and other saintly men,
I came upon treasures of ‘untold fortchen’
But the “lad” in me, made me fight the truth – so clear in sight,
Until that blessed night, I ended my sorry plight.
Embrace your brilliance – you are a star child,
Gone wild — in some style, but you have taken a while,
To unravel your master plan, to build a bridge that would span,
The vastness of space, in a canvas so broad, but always in accord…
With the absolute truth, in it’s purest form – bhakti
You have gotten very lucky, that this was the birth for humility.
You penanced as a monk, but in a sullen sort of bunk,
Of disconnected punk, and skunk, the urge to debunk, haunted your upper trunk.
So yes, I now embrace this truth, but in all humility I wonder,
What, when, where, and why things unfold asunder?
It may not be mine to know, but then again, what is this game for?
But to score more, towards the goal of evermore, wonder and love,
As it floats down from above, like an elegant pink dove.
Gaura Gaura, you are my Lord, I surrender to you with all accord,
That my heart has been sold to you, and I do,
And never will, want it back – I am certain this is a fact,
All I ask is that You continue to allow me to serve you in this dramatic act.