Overrated

I make it a point not to blog when I'm feeling down because I know I'll probably disagree with what I write when I'm back in my right mind again, which is why I've been putting off this entry for quite a while now. However, I think maybe I'd mistaken pessimism for realism in that time, so here goes.

The world is truly overrated. Every "good" thing can go unimaginably wrong, one benefit doesn't come without the sacrifice of another, life will test us with the things we least expect and want it to test us. Then again, what else is life supposed to be? Life is life. It's pretty much a prison of our sins- if we didn't sin, we could just ask for death and escape from this overrated world.

So I guess sinners like myself should both, be grateful that we're still alive with potential to rectify those mistakes, and kick ourselves for making them to begin with and prolonging this arrest.

The King of Kings

Yesterday, they sent me a king,
One whose praises they all seem to sing,
He told me he could grant me some wealth,
And if I served well, some more for my health,
But with this king, I was not content,
So him, like the others, away I sent.

I met another who offered me fame,
Said all the world’s tongues could utter my name,
All it would take was my obliging hand,
And he’d turn my lowliness into something so grand,
But with this king, I was not content,
So him, like the others, away I sent.

A third one arrived a fortnight before,
Met my humble abode with a knock on my door,
He told me he’d make my children my pride,
And in a house of gold, he’d make me reside,
But with this king, I was not content,
So him, like the others, away I sent.

Like this they kept coming and as always, they went,
And my heart wished not to serve any king the world sent,
And so in this frustration, I sought a way out,
I went on a journey with my luggage of doubt,
Perhaps I was too harsh on the kings that had come?
Should I have listened a little to some?
But now on this journey, it was too late,
And to turn them away, it seemed was my fate.

In the midst of this voyage I still had no goal,
For I knew not where to find the cure for my soul,
So I stopped for a while and stepped onto the ground,
And a scent filled my heart with beauty profound,
And as I walked on the sand to follow this scent,
The weight on my shoulders seemed to relent,
‘Til I reached a sight that was ice to my eyes,
In this heat of the sun under heaven’s red skies.

I saw a gold light where the sun hit the dome,
And a red flag like a sign on the door of a home,
And masses of servants running to their master inside,
Where I thought the royals of this land would reside,
But I looked again and saw no servants around,
Only kings and queens in their dignity, crowned,
So, confused, I asked where the servants might be,
And one man told me that the servant was he,
But another man came and said, “Servant? That’s me,”
Then another and another, and they all said the same,
And soon every royal in that place made that claim.

Finally, a woman told me the truth,
She was the wisest and most modest of youth,
She said that these people were not kings or queens,
Until they had served her son through their means,
She told me that his service turned slaves into kings,
The way a goldsmith turns stones into rings.
She showed me why other kings, I had turned down,
Why each one was simply a slave in a gown-
What king needs his servants and roams the low earth?
The true king’s servants struggle to meet him since birth.

Like lost orphans who seek a father’s embrace,
I’d serve all my life for the peace in that place,
So here I stand, still waiting outside,
And by his principles, I try to abide,
So that maybe one day, we might finally meet,
And this king of kings, I might humbly greet,
And perhaps he might accept me as his,
Maybe he’ll turn my pain into bliss,
For the servants of a king of kings feel no pain,
The cure for their ailments is the love of Hussein (a.s).