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Temples Of India

THE IMPOTENT POTENTATE

Alas! this ignorant imbecile erratic perverted poor creature 
Knows not a billion millionth part of a second of the Future 
Yet, the nerveless tongue of thin Mister Void boldly proclaims-
"I've explored every thing and all's won." feeling thus exclaims.

What a pity! How miserable! How topsy turvy the state of his brain! 
How fantastic his thought! How wide the void of his brawny brain! 
To think and feel, to infer and record and declare and broadcast
"I'm no more a copyist, it's for God now to imitate me or recast."

Mark the irony! when the icey hand of Death claps to freeze him dead 
He says it to be his robot nearing him for final touch to go ahead
Or as the ravaging tongues of conflagration all on a sudden encircle 
He stretches hand for telescope to observe, deeming it as an icecle.

When the rumbling earth quakes under feet pushing him into abyss 
He takes out then seismograph to reading the details sans a miss
Or when the giant-sized land slides fall on to grind him to powder 
He begins guessing gains by exporting ice to Zones torrid as trader.

Now that these proved his infinitesimally inconspicuous gross nesciences Against God's depthless, boundless, exhaustless, peerless Omniscience 
Is it not proper for him to circumambulate God soon with tonsured head 
As on act of expiation and absolute unconditional surrender to Godhead

 

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About The Impotent Potentate
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