The Dearest Most Incomprehensible Captor
Ohhh! Give me that hand of the dearest stranger
Whose love is blinded with his visionary seeing too deep into the invisible, beyond the power of volatile imagined expectations
Whose wishes make clear the voices of Doubt:
And I shall choose to stay and be remained within
The sweet captivity of his heart.
And all the faithfuls in the rapture of their confession of flickering faith
Are all fearfully floating
into the invisible worlds of the tendency of belief in worshiping what they cannot understand
: Because self-control is out of their grasp
And in the realm of the Will of their Gods they
are mere feathered seeds riding in the unpredictable violent currents of the whirlwind in the wilderness-of-ignorance
where fate and karma are coiled like luck is to the gamblers,
When they have lost the anchors of being in control
Knowing not the endings and trembling afore of any beginnings
Only there and then, precious prayers can be felt as the gift of salvation
As they fall face down upon the bottoms of the pit called self-doubt!
