Thursday, September 1, 2022

Processing of Greatness

 

A fluty wail from the well of woe,

With angels playing harp softly above,

Dumb music from this most tragic tragedy,

Go on, Go on! Crown of mercy too greedy.

 

The tragic, saddened heart,

Where the lamp of longest pain burn,

Its light reaching transcendental eye,

And the oil of fallacy saying smoky bye.

 

Aah the ways of destiny!

Who can understand its allegory?

Why doth purest affection of human soul,

Gets crushed for the purest emblem of the whole?

 

Too far is heaven’s corbel!

There sanctified souls dwell,

They sing, go to tragedy’s depth,

For, without pain’s awake, no one ever slept,

 

Perhaps, too vivid is pleasure after a long pain;

Golden glow of morning after night’s rain,

The pure star in clearest sky,

After worst elements, now shining high!

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