T (no first name) Wignesan


Soul Genocide - Poem by T (no first name) Wignesan

Soul Genocide

No less a word than the last
for putting to rest the syllable
for every man a creed a cult
No final philosophy to last

Who can tell when the world ends
for the strong and the bold
for those who stand all alone
No better might their word lends

The last wise man who stood apart
for four noble truths in eight paths
for what may he have gone away
If prophets rain and never depart

Every age brings new divinizing calls
for saints bloodied in mad blabber
for what may holy rites wash away
If the world turns on mechanistic balls

If every man sought the painful path
for his depraved soul and the world's
for the sake of every child's hunger
Who may not reject nibbhana in wrath

Right paths or wrong paths we decide
for better or worse in this life
for the children forced to survive
Better hellfire than the souls' genocide


From the privately pub. coll.: longhand notes (a binding of poems) ,1999,115p.
© T. Wignesan - Paris, July 1999/2016

Topic(s) of this poem: elegy

Form: Quatrain


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Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 21, 2016



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