Religion, A Cause Lost For Long Poem by Aniruddha Pathak

Cadavers of forgotten truth
Carried on from an ancient age,
Kept imprisoned in golden cage,
All alive once and in prime youth,
The truth, few now care to work with
And realise, nor yet relish,
Served to masses, mouth-watering a dish,
Much flavoured with assorted myth;

Ancient truth in poetic beauty,
Captured as was and just as heard,
Parroted now word by wan word,
Still, looking winsome in captivity,
Though getting blurred by the day,
A verdant green lea lying lay!
Men in search of no true knowledge,
Who, captive be to its golden cage.

Nor can they transcend its beauty's rage,
Nor as prisoners get freed from words bare,
From age to age still keen to share
What cadaver be from old age
That they fondly call religion
Bequeathed or spread shore to shore,
Each promising hereafter heaven,
Its essence lost from very core.

Each religion now rotten a tad more,
From its glorious days before—
Perhaps why religions so much smell,
Few know this still, such is their spell
For followers— frogs in a well
Who, reason with their heart, not head,
Having tonnes of hate and hatred
Robed green or white, or shades of red!

No religion has ever opened doors
For a spiritual quest,
Nor has led believers to safer shores,
Its aim being mass conquest;
Religion born was from vague fears,
Invented were gods from strange lands,
Nectar whence no more flows for years,
Can oil drip from desert's dry sands?

But where, where's the escape?
There seems no deliverance from this rape
Of faith, its basis being dread,
It appeals nor to human head,
Nor yet can reach the heart,
Inherited but by birth,
Little by intrinsic worth,
More pushed behind than pulled, a cart.
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Satire | 04.07.14 |