mirage

impolitically acquitted fraternity,
with a stubborn trembling hand,
rising towards illusions,
like the mirage on the sand.

sheep await to follow,
the self illusioned man,
yet they stay silent,
waiting for his command.

i want to shake those sheep ,
and wake them into men,
and give them the apple,
of glorious wisdom again.

the magician is yet better,
the shepherd being followed,
he knows that 'tis all fogus,
unlike shepherd being so hollow.

we need some great men,
to break graves and come alive,
'tis like expecting prodigy,
from the poor infertile.

thus i pray to thee oh god!
i pray to thee 'tis true,
save this fraternity of ours,
'coz all we have is you.