The Urge, The Prayer, And The Fall Poem by Rehnuma Tarannum

Again Psyche has come, and urges me,
Bestows upon me her power of poetry.
Eagerly, then I take my pen,
Blessed by her, here I begin…..
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My Dear God,
Why did you put my essence in the vessel of clay?
As it's tainted and always tend to betray.
When my soul is not safe in my human room,
How can I preserve my heart in worldly doom?

May be I am a sinner, but my soul is pure,
Still it possesses a glimpse of divinity of yours.
It groans and moans in the mess of Earth-
Tormented and troubled from the time of birth.

Please, free my soul from decaying, God,
Save my spirit from all the odds.
I shall be a loyal servant to you forever,
Sooth my sufferings, oh God my saviour.


Listen to my prayer; upon you I have faith-
Death is but the purging of soul, oh Haith!
Life on Earth is like a lethal dose of meth,
There will be no pain after my death.
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Psyche gets angry to see my verse,
Decreases my honour with her curse.
"I wish you to celebrate life, not death!
Be less-poetic till the end of your breath."