Poetry

A Soul’s Rant

On the Gates of Heaven the angels cried,

What brings you forth, child?

My nights were dark, the days bright, he lied,

Let me in, keep my punishments mild.

What were you, man, in life?

The trade, profession, your means to live by,

A humble trade, a loving wife,

Dreams yet unfulfilled, why did I have to die?

Such troubles are behind you now,

As another flesh coat awaits you.

What of my past, how do I bow?

Forgo unfinished tales, get ready to redo.

The cycle continues on,

Like hot summer nights or a cold winters day,

Souls remain lost, most forever mourn,

Don’t we mortals even have a say?

We all are instruments in the Lords hand,

Balanced in pain, in gain, but with no identity, no name,

Little pawns to play with in schemes so grand,

Aren’t we all pieces in this game?

It’s the criticism and the comments that keep a poet alive, so please oblige me with your opinion. All reviews positive/negative appreciated. Thanking you in anticipation of your valuable critique.

Notes:

The poem is a dialogue between the angel that guards the gates of heaven and an honorable man that died before his time. Dreams and aspirations were broken, the man still cannot understand the greater forces at work here. While the dialogue continues I try to explore the concept of rebirth and leave  it to the reader’s judgement if death/rebirth cycles are worth going through or simply a chess game for the masters of our fates.

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