a minor, c, d. what have i become?

She said:
If from today you feed the needy, clothe the wretched, aid the blind,
If from this day you slake all demons, settle dues and pay in kind,
That when you age and age you shall, the Lord finds it in his grace,
To keep the acrid signs of loneliness from showing on your face…

He said:
Forgive this weary traveler; he never knows quite what to say.
He struts and sprints for moonlit hours and sells praises by the day,
But we’re past the point reprieve is showered, I think I heard a madman say,
When paths divulged in blazing forests, he often took the drifters’ way.

She said:
I’m sure I’ve heard this symbolic rant, a thousand times before,
It doesn’t make me sing with joy, it does not make me soar,
You think that you can make amends, snap life into the dead,
You need a heart of gold, o traveler, and yours is made of lead.

He said:
If you know all, then tell me this, what is my purest form?
Do I submit to baseless calling, or do I weather out this storm?
Am I a footnote for learned scholars?
Am I a title for tactless fools?
Am I the zeitgeist of my people?
A stalwart of laws and rules?
Am I the sheep in hordes of demons
Or the saint in a packs of thieves?
Will I duck and run for cover
Or will I stand tall and still believe?
But the crows draw neigh and this winter breeze leaves me hollow on my knees.
So take my hand, and save my soul, before time and tide can take their toll.

She said:
This setting is cursed, with us eons away,
The scores have been set for the ultimate play,
I will tell you no answers, and so I’ll tell no lies,
When it burns out to dust, in reality, like the thorn bird, the supernova cries…

Azam Noon ’09.