Rukhsheen

Paradise is lost, t’is oft claimed

Morality withered and honor maimed

The tree of life, once stately and proud

Now wears its morbid blackened shroud




As far as my tired eye can see,

There lies evidence of humanity

Naught strikes my view but desolation

Fiery, fiendish, fatal conflagration




But hark! Amongst this desert bare

I hear a voice, “Halt! Who goes there?

What voice lilts thus above the din?

Show yourself, Sorcerer, whatever guise you’re in.”




Behold! The darkness, where has it gone

Whence comes this light, riding swift upon

That chariot of Heavenly light that brings

Fair countenance to the most foul of things




Sand and dust, under her brief toil

Is transformed into the most fertile soil

And the seeds that are planted therin

Rival Eden, indeed the two worlds are akin




T’was not so, how then, it comes to be

That from the very brink of insanity

A fair hand pulls me back into the light

And makes a fool of this Faustian erudite?




I bow to thee, fair muse, contrite

I prithee, by thine divine light

Guide this fool as thou hath often done

Chase away the night, be my sun




The world seems like a less scary place

When I see you and your smiling face