The Hour Of The Owl Poem by Obaidur Rahman

I feel so down, I feel so low
Time and time again, as if, I told you so,
I’ve been burning, since the world’s been turning…
Debt of despair is all I owe.

Savior me, savior you,
Sinner me and saint but who?
How do I save my aching mortal soul?
And when will I escape, from the wraths of the blue?

Voodoo my soul, mystic my spirit
Usher the black, so that, the white can light it,
Will me your magic miracle
Let it sparkle shine my instinct.

Is life nothing but one big tease?
What I’m after, riches won’t please.
All I seek, is the divine consciousness,
And I’ll live and die, just as I please.