Playing Spiritual Beings

  

Humans, their antics knows no bounds
They map out land demarcations
And then go contrary to them
And start killing each other.

Everything has names given by
Humans and yet, they take pleasure
In jumping into others kingdoms
Taking whatever sounds sweet to their ears.

In the West, it’s April, May
In South, it’s Monday, Sunday, Friday
In the East, it’s numbers: Three, four
In the North, story remains the same.

They bears months, weeks, days as names
As theirs and still arrogantly walk tall
Unashamed, the sense of self-worth
No honors, marauders of 21st century.

How would there be faith among them?
Practically impossible.
Opposite is modern wisdom on
vogue for anything considered sound.

They have made sure that contracts,
Agreements signed and unsigned
Remains the attributes of the weak
Or whoever falls for it these days.

Faith and trust has gone to the wolves, this century belongs The educated
Mad men hell bent on terminating
Earth before the mad gods does so.