The Kingdom without a King

I have heard there is a place where broken hearts need no mending—and it waits for us all.

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I have heard there is a kingdom buried deep,

far away from this chaos and the mayhem

I have heard it can be found if your faith takes a leap,

but not by those who are hateful or who condemn

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I have heard that it is so peaceful down below,

silence is a tranquil lake with no dark murmurs

I have heard there is no ego there, high or low,

life is no longer a battle, no losers and no learners

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I have heard that there is comfort in its darkness,

no sudden challenge, or no opportunity to be won

I have heard there is just serenity, and no harshness,

there’s no curtain to be dropped, and your roles are done

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I have heard love is a wraith there, forgotten forever,

your broken heart needs no more solace, no mending

I have heard all are equal there, the fools and the clever,

the fire inside is all put out; it needs no more tending

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I have heard the kingdom is without a king,

the last refuge for all the tired and broken souls

I have heard the admission needs no magical ring,

you step across the threshold, and the drum rolls

A Shit-load of Exclamation Marks!

SCREAM!!!!!

You wanna scream at something – really anything at all;

you wanna scream at someone – really anyone at all

You wanna shout to make God bend down and call;

you wanna shout till your voice echoes in His great hall

But in the end, you are just screaming at yourself;

banging your own head against the silent wall

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Gamayun and the Child of Autumn – A Dialogue

Note: Within first the Iranian and then the Russian folklore, Gamayun is the symbol of knowledge and wisdom. In the myth, she appears in the form of a prophetic bird, who resides on a lonely island situated somewhere in the east. As she knows everything about the true nature of human beings, gods, creation, and eternity, her prophecies are divine and magical – though difficult to comprehend and understand.


The night is silent and Gamayun sits atop a lonely rock, looking down on a landscape of magical lights and dark smoke. A gentle breeze is blowing from the northeast, carrying faint shades of some long-lost and ancient fragrance.

Suddenly, she senses a presence – there is someone beckoning her attention from the shadows. Gamayun raises her hand and commands:

Come forth! O child of misery and gloom; 

step forward and seek, even if it is your doom

Come forth! O dweller of grey desolation;

Beg for wisdom, if it’s of any consolation

The presence crawls forward, his tired knees digging deep grooves in the sand. He grabs hold of Gamayun’s feet and cries his heart out:

O Gamayun! The wise and the knowledgeable;

here I am, laying all my cards on the table

O Gamayun! The herald of divine prophecies;

all my dark visions unfolded, terrible atrocities

O Gamayun! Spread your golden wings in the sun;

for I am desperate and making my last run

O Gamayun! Behold my pain and tell me what I ask;

see this darkness, it is very real, it is not a mask  

Of all the God’s children, I am the child of autumn;

the failure is so terribly deep, that there is no bottom

I am not alone I know, yet unique in what I need;

I feel like a hollow dead tree, with neither fruit nor seed

It is not that I demand either wealth or riches or gold;

I just beg that my dream be fulfilled, single and untold

It is not that I ask for life everlasting or a great power;

I just implore that my heart be happy, not bitter or sour


Sensing the man’s anguish and hearing his plea, Gamayun bends down her head and thinks for a while. She carefully prods her heart but finds nothing but dark tidings. She finally raises her head and whispers back:

You have come from afar – have my sympathies with you;

my heart weeps for you, yet there is nothing I can really do

Having asked your question, you have unburdened yourself;

your cause is lost, and what to tell you, I am lost myself

Of all the God’s many children, you are the most despised;

He made all his children out of love, all of them prized

You dream in vain, you cry in vain and you beg in vain;

He carved you out of sadness, dark soil, and cold rain

He hates you with a vengeance so very terrible and dark;

His distaste for you is so very naked and so very stark

He looks at you with pity though, the most what He can spare;

you may die or you may suffer, that He doesn’t at all care 

Being a child of autumn, it is a dark curse you carry;

you will always be sad and you will never be merry

It is your burden and your fate, how dark it may seem;

abandon all hope, you will never get what you dream


Up there, sitting on His golden throne, God listens to all and smiles a tired smile. He is the wisest of all and the most powerful. Yet He is lonely because his wisdom goes beyond the understanding of mortals. He looks down kindly upon the child of autumn and his heaving shoulders; and whispers softly:

‘O Child of Autumn – you tread a treasured path;

yet you are blinded by grief, your fate a bloodbath

Of all my children, you are the most blue-eyed;

all my children are loved, you are the most prized

You dream in my way; an immense imagination;

I carved you out of wisdom, foresight, and adoration

I love you with an intensity, so very focused and clear;

it might appear as abstract, but I hold you so dear

I make you feel the pain and the agony of all others;

so you may suffer the suffering of your brothers

Being a child of autumn, it is not a curse you carry;

it makes you all patient so that you don’t tarry

It is not a dark burden, but a blessing filled with light;

with understanding comes wisdom, lofty and bright

Go in peace my child, go and serve the world and life;

you will grow and learn to walk the edge of a knife’ 

#English #poetry #poem #opera #Gumayun #God #misery #anguish #path #life #test #kindness #life #death #wisdom #help #love #light #darkness #curse

Hope in the Darkest Hour

It is your time, my friend – your darkest hour;

seemingly the end, joys and sorrows at par

All seems lost; and all seems dour;

all appears grey; and smiles are all sour


Read more: Hope in the Darkest Hour

You sitting by that grave; yes you – the old hag,

appearing to be brave, holding onto your old bag

Why do you sob and why do you weep?

Was it your son, whom you loved so deep?

Please, do not cry; wipe off all these tears; 

he is not gone; pray hush all your fears

Look into your heart; you will find him there;

he is but a memory; with a face so fair


It is your time, my friend – your darkest hour;

seemingly the end, joys and sorrows at par

All seems lost; and all seems dour;

all appears grey; and smiles are all sour


You holding a broken toy; yes you – the poor boy,

crying your heart out, you have lost all joy

Why do you sob and why do you weep?

Was it a treasure, you intended to keep?

Please, do not cry; do not be cross; 

it is but the first step on the stairway to loss

More toys will come, each precious and dear;

happiness and wonder, each new year


It is your time, my friend – your darkest hour;

seemingly the end, joys and sorrows at par

All seems lost; and all seems dour;

all appears grey; and smiles are all sour


You, lost in your reverie; yes you – the old man; 

all sick and tired, separated from your clan

Why are you sad and why are you so glum?

Do you feel bad on what you have become?

Please, do not be sad; do not detest yourself; 

it is but the destiny, life always solves itself

Your life was but a chapter, in the grand book of life;

your soul was but a traveler, playing the merry fife


It is your time, my friend – your darkest hour;

seemingly the end, joys and sorrows at par

All seems lost; and all seems dour;

all appears grey; and smiles are all sour

#English #poetry #poem #time #life #dark #desperation #sadness #hope #light #darkness #death