Interrupted
breaths, erratic devotion
What has
become of me?
A promise I
embraced, to hold you in every breath
now stands alone,
aloofly.
Guru, why
now do I feel
the waft of
air that you are, so distantly?
I wonder if
I gave you away
to the absurd
world so easily?
I listened
wastefully what they said,
forgetting
what you are to me.
Please come
back, in tears I plead
With my very
self, I’ll bathe your feet.
Ah! Who else
be accused of your exit,
but the
puerile me?
How did I
expect your divine feet in my home,
when my home
itself is awfully filthy?
