On The Hill Poem by Mohabeer Beeharry

On The Hill



They stand me on a hill
That oversees the village
and the town wrapped up in virulent dust
and a clutter of dead structures.

My knees cry from the laughter of the whips,
And ruthless battering,
Heartless,
My eyes bleary wth dried blood, sweat and dust
And my body frail, cold in the heat of the morning sun.

You do not know me.
I know you, who swing the whips
and sing songs of greed and inhumanity.

You hate me
But I love you.
What is hate,
And what is love?

He who knows, finds peace in his heart.
For he rises above wounds
and bleeding,
Above hate and love.

There is only him, who sends me and you here,
Only him!
I know him
And you do not.

In your heart, seek him truely
And no fear shall be your enemy.

Friday, August 17, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: spiritual
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