In The Castle of My Father

There is always a battle raging somewhere in the castle of my father.
The world is a battlefield.

I came before my ageless father with a chalice filled with the thoughts of my heart and soul.
I was carried in the wings of my spirit.
I bowed as I descended in the Holy of His Holies.
-Father, hallowed is your timeless name.
- Welcome, scribe of truth.  Speak in the tongue of flame of my spirit for I have given you utterance.
- Father, you have seen my thoughts in all seasons.
- The earth yawns for relief.
- The relief to end her grief.
- She is crumbling under her great burden.
- The agonies of her maladies.
- For how long will she continue to grieve?   
- I wonder why the creatures you have created have chosen to turn the world upside down.
You made the earth so perfect to make their life easy, but they prefer complicating things and implicating themselves.
You bless them, but they curse themselves.
- You good for nothing retard!
- - You ignorant dullard!
- - You foolish bastard!
I hear them cursing and swearing everyday.  And I see their tear shed and bloodshed from place to place.
Their years are spent in fears and tears.
For their fears drive them to do the horrible and terrible things, they do in their rat race.  And all ends in tears. 
What kind of creatures are these humans?
I see ignorance dancing on the street in the masquerade of arrogance.  And the inferior posing and posturing in the camouflage of the learned.
What a comedy of errors in a world of ironies!
I watch them caught in their cloak and dagger plots over their greed for power over nothing really.  But what they are contesting for is not worthy of your glory.  Yet, they cheat, lie, steal, kill, and plunder for the possession of these trophies of their vainglories.
I really feel so sorry for them.  Because, they never learn the truth until they are gripped by the pangs of the wrath of the earth as they gnash their teeth in death.
Even as we speak, millions of them are repeating the same horrible and terrible mistakes of their chequered history.
I wonder if they ever sit down to think and brood over their fate and ponder for a moment on their destiny.
If only they could be wise
The evil and wicked would act otherwise.
To realize the folly of their dark deeds and renounce their evils.
I am often amused by the petty tantrums and squabbles over their ego trips and perishable status symbols.
I have seen them consult themselves and meet to plot mischief against a man.
The bitches of the earth in the robes of hypocrisy walk in the midst of the chaste and pure ones.
The three witches and one wizard put heads together and join hands to claw and gnaw at your anointed scribe in their editorial coven of mischief and treachery.
I heard them hiss like rattle snakes in the bushel of their witchcraft.
They spit and vomit their venom into their cauldron of malice, prejudice and avarice of the furies of wrath.
Mischief is only done by those whose hearts have been fed with wormwood and poisoned ivy of animosity and enmity.
Then later go to their white sepulcher they call church to fool themselves, because, they cannot fool you.
Or the turbaned ones whose hands are soiled with the slime of their crimes of adultery, robbery and treachery and they use these same horrible and terrible hands to open your holy scriptures to confess and profess falsehood with their forked tongues of serpentine words.
But with their own breath, they have sealed their fate
Their judgment is already written on their black slate.
No wonder even mother earth vomits their corpses into the abyss of Hades.
And their people waste copious tears over their graves and of course, only fools pray for the dead.
You knew my father’s bosom friend and namesake who was wealthy and mighty in the 1970s and his home and office were like Mecca and Medina as people flocked to him to pay him lip service and eye service for his favours.  But, today, nobody even visits his grave and I have not even seen anything written on him in the annals of history.  His surviving children are his only legacy, but there is nothing to celebrate about his children.  They are greedy for the same vainglories their father laboured and died for.
I saw the once palatial mansion of the other rich man now taken over by the lizards, termites, rats and other creatures, including the lunatics and homeless.
Is this the end of all the noisy merriments of those days of the great Bobby?
Father, for how long do you have to bear the horrors and terrors of these creatures called humans? 
Till thy kingdom come?
I thank God that I have buried my father and my mother, so they cannot bury me.
How woeful if would be for those who shall be buried by their parents, because of their evil deeds.
For woes shall be the harvest of my foes
As they writhe in the throes of their woes
Their venom will be spilled from their poisoned hearts and souls
For their mischief against the innocent
And they refused to repent.
For they trampled on the olive branch
And they returned evil for love.
For evil begets evil
And love begets love.
As your heart is so is your soul.
For God is the judge of all
I have realized the prognosis of their crisis
For none of them shall escape from the sword of nemesis.
The judgment has been written on the wall
As Lucifer and his legions of devils fell into hell
And so shall all my foes fall.
Then all will be well.

I pray, oh dearest Father, do not let me be caught in the cobwebs of their crumbling world.  Because, this beautiful and wonderful life you have given me is worthier than their hollow lives.

Our destinies are not in the stars
But in our own hands.

Thanks for reading.