help me to swallow this fruit
that bitters my throat with pain
that poisons both grower and picker
that kills us both in vain
help them see the Path I chose...
through this orchard maze
the Path that lead to this same tree
the Paths we trod for days
the fruit i ate, to feed my hunger
but pride it fed instead.
the idea that seemed so crispy
will only leave me dead!
but i am not the only debtor
both grower and picker pay whole
the fruit had poisoned one man's body
the other man, the soul!
forgiveness is a word in speech
it's rope is tied to two
it tightens when we pull away
it escapes nor me or you
it loosens but only with time
for some it goes by quick
for others that time does not begin
for anger they let grow thick!
© Naadir Vorajee