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The Pain Of Being God
It is a pain and not a pleasure, thee know not;
Being God and not being felt by thee all so.
I am the God of thy past and thy present
And helplessly of thy future too.
I came from nothing but am still the Lord of everything
And at times I wonder about my omnipresence.
I created a lot and thought of recreation next
And so I have left this world of thy concerns.
I cause drought and flood; famine and calamities
But I am faulted neither on Sundays nor on Fridays.
I bless the wicked and shower riches on the filthy rich,
But the righteous suffer and the have-nots starve to death.
I kill a few hundreds in a plane crash or a rail mishap.
With a few surviving I am thanked again!
I first send the demon of floods and then the angels of the Red Cross,
And the silent prayer of the soon-to die goes up in the air.
My past was full of passivity and penury, I recollect and
My present is full of activity and riches, I fear.
In the elusive be-wilderness of this universe
I continue to hide my head with palms stained!
At times I weep within for long
For I too have a large mind and a huge heart.
I regret about my creating spree and recreational excesses.
I know the error of being myself but I am composed yet!
I am waiting for a huge ball of fire or something like that to come
From somewhere spanning the material to the man
So that its flames may lick away my entity
And I may fade away into nothingness as of earlier.
A new earth and a new sky thenceforth shall be,
A new order of life that sans thoughts of me may rule high,
And a God of thy choice be created by thee.
Still spare me for my pains of being thy God till then.
poem
by
M.d Dinesh Nair
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