Slender beams of light enter this his darkened room
as I kneel, always silent,
always lost, sinking heart, frozen then an alter boy.
Tortured forms wrought in staned colored panes of glass,
dust dances in the air, as I once did.
His open hand as I'm stretched out,
an image forms in my mind of God, as a little child a boy.
His eye's penetrating into my hidden secret place.
His thinking is seen like a reflection on a lover's face.
I raise my head, understanding now, defying the obvious
to this his one last final stand.
A penal legal interest was his fate that lay ahead.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
God leaves after birth so that each human being can work out his 'karma'. God bestows too, the power of intelligence to make the right choice in life. The fate of man is determined by his own actions. I liked this poem for its philosophical content. Thank you Sir, for sharing your thoughts. A full 10+