The Day Of Creation by

The reign of ignorance, rammed passion
The home of disease
Ever dying scope for self -realization
Where people's eyes speak weakness

Power to less focus
Lack of ambitious through and agility
The land of the drenched,stormed warriors
Where the soul for daring died long.

The home of crying men
Sobering for many, sorrow of reality
Where people can't define changes
But take themselves as subjects.

Where live dog -tired people
Those envisioning little of their struggle
Whose will are not lasting
Cause they get chilled and swept by cold winds.

"We being like this ever long
Can't secure than this much '
Words these people vomit of their home
Cursing all on creation day. /

Is it on day of creation
When God created who would be slaves
A home of the weaker
And self -killers? Who is God then?

The day of creation was neutral
God sat reclined before the seraphs as the Holy
A pot of soil was brought, and he molded man
That of "his image" is to be man great being.