A Beggar's Lament

Oh Lord of love, God personified, 
I am on my knees, a beggar's lament, 
Must the dark clouds of doom and disaster crash down on those who have already cried, Is our devotion to You, and simple tragedy, though not Your crucifixion, still a metaphor
only for the magnitude that is You?

I beg you on bent knee at Your threshold, Lord of Love personified, not to again count the ones who died,
For how many sacrifices will one have to pay, for one hope's bright light ray,
For one image of Your golden chakra,
denying tragic karma?

A beggar, I lament to you: if I am not fit to live, then I will die,
For I am lost and have nothing to give but a song, a poem, a dance that none will see.

How many people must die before the ignorance of evil has released its dark impressions?  When the bodies lie in heaps in black and white, where are you Lord of love, God in heaven, when the children go hungry, and the sick not tended, the blind ignored and stumbling in submission to a plight of darkness,
And in all of this, tell me where is oneness, will You save us from damnation on earth, from those that just do not care?
Lord of love, as a beggar I lament.