My cattle had gone grazing
on the pasture of distant colours.

When will they return to bless me
with their milky grace,
unawares of their freedom?
I know they will one day,
on a sunny day, perhaps,
come back in the chains of intense love
moving their heads in unison sideways,
no rope to tie their necks
and waving their ears.

They have no master,
no, I am not;
I cannot be, once though I was.
but, when I think of my ways
to them, my nature,
idiotic sympathy,
churning mood of empathy,
heart felt intimacy,
joy of inimitable loudness,
their touch, i am adored,
honoured and live!

yet, there is a shadow,
walking beside them,
a real being, as clear as a sun,
not with light
though we may take it so,
but with burning flame!
fright is my companion,
real is my enemy, doubtful
my forward, burnt their farm,
spilled their milk,
beaten my life, tortured my destiny,
churned my mind
no chance to see them again,
we are guilty of birth
of life, love, spreading light
and virus of virtue.