The me in me

Scrolling through the back pages
Looking for old words for the (re)new
Written I thought they were in past
When I wasn’t in need of them

Words gone missing, remaining truth
A human, mortal that I am
Even the great Achilles had heels
Look me through the prism of heart

Who would ever be blameless
When it was Plato, defended slavery
A human, mortal that I am
Born to fall and get up

In the spirit of human
The sins of times variable
Judge me for the me in me
Not the one you do see

Awaiting the rising of rainbow
Until it was per the ‘dreamers’
Till we decry sinner with the sin
Judge me for the me in me

Donna

How the winds are laughing,
they laugh with all their might.
Laugh and laugh the whole day through,
and half the autumn night.

In the village remote
just above the sight, a crow flies
Down below, the mighty land,
the mournful chicken in a coop lies

“Stop complaining!” said the owner,
“Who told you a chicken to be?
You got wings and yet you don’t fly,
like the crow so proud and free?”

Boulders tiny, stacked so light,
you could never brush aside
O my Donna, not your life
Be the crow, so smart and snide

Chicken are stopped and slaughtered,
never knowing the reason why.
But whoever treasures freedom,
like the crow, has learned to fly.

PS : Inspired from this amazingly beautiful song by the indomitable Joan Beaz