When I am crazy and insane
as said by the critics
how can I be a poet.
I do not know
how to praise God
God has not taught me
the language of praise
and pleasant words.
I do not fear my God unseen
I have not learnt how to fear
gods on earth
who loves death
instead of life.
Who loves people of power
hoping for a reward.
I prefer chain and punishment
instead of flowers
How can I be a poet of honour
when I am with undressed
and unhonoured people.
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