I drive myself mad...suffocated by existence. The holy men keeps reciting tales of torment and agony. Yet, here I am, tormented by existence and feelings. So, at times I stoop to God; at times I seek refuge in wine. When oblivious, I vanish; when conscious, I am in anguish! Without the strength for peace, without the courage to agitate, When I look all over, it is my own being, revealed and concealed.. I am the one who made the nectar; I am the one who made the pulpit. Religion is but some rituals, tales and a rationale. It is the answer to a question that does not have any answer!! - Ahmed -
Posted on: Wed, 18 Sep 2013 02:37:30 +0000
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