I am blind, maybe one of the blind-est
Who doesn't know how to differentiate
Between right and wrong, the good and bad
But always, somehow passes every sadness.
How? Inner devotion, some mystical power?
That brings me back from being shrouded by the slimy black and stealthy liquid
That burns my desires.
I try to balance them, give both equal importance
But I fail. I am blind, and I walk as I feel. Not as I see.
Blind. Because I cannot see everything.
YOU ARE READING
Tandava And Lasya
PuisiThe first poem is the Winner of Yoga Mythology contest "The pang of separation, the loss of love... A peek at the story of Shiva and Sati from Hindu mythology through a poem." I decided to not end this book and continue it. The central theme is spi...
