Faith

By Bhargab Das

I may not understand hieroglyphics,

But I understand the complexity of your heart.

Why must your soul tolerate their nucleus that's algific?

When I can be the sun to your independent new start?

Do you trust me? 

Let me be the element that'd make up your shield,

Confabulate with me?

I'd be the golden sword you'd be proud to wield.

"Why must you help?" 

To repay the things you've done for me.

To be your barque in every abyssal sea.

You're the mortal competition of aphrodite,

Let me recite your praises in my performed soliloquy.

May it be the grim reaper or even Alexander's deceased army,

I'd brawl with them, albeit I'd live with the scar of being called a barmy.

From sights of hibiscus; to the cryfest of snowdrops,

Let me be the one who'd forever reminise the departure of your soul from your corpse.

From the sun's blazing glimmer, to the moon's silvery shimmer,

Let my teary eyes be the luminescence of your tomb, when nights get dimmer.

I may not understand the epistles of Shakespeare,

But I understand the complexity of your heart.

Let me be the athanasia for your grave,

I'd be the sun to your heavenly start.

By Bhargab Das