FOOLS AND KINGS - IMMORTAL RAJPUTS

Over Dismal clouds, a steel gray sky
lay heavy, on a wrangler's eye
And the ice upon the time-worn world
of trodden hills, and where herds have grazed
have glazed the trail, along the way

The ancient Seer sees seas,
well beyond the seas the Seer sees.
The Highlander Seer sees
the seas that traveled did he,
to see what the Highlands Seer wanted to see.

Upon seeing where the Seer seen,
the scene, he'd seen, had been seen,
so serene was this scene the boy from hills
Seer over the seas scene in his dreams!

To flee from the sting of winter's keep
stray yherds seek shelter among the trees
A border collie, takes command
and herds the flock to form a band

Wild geese form arrows sharp and clean
As instinct guides, and trust is keen
While northeast winds so white with sleet
Bury plains, once gleaned of wheat

With the weight of burdens never done
the lone man works without a sun
entrenched in white beneath his feet
wearing overalls, boots soaked in peat
and fleece upon his heart of toil
His back is bent with glistened soil

His lone companions know the way
Two steadfast horses, have earned their hay
A border collie, never strays
Wearily waiting till the master is done
He labors on, as the evening falls
To a distant light, where his hunger calls

Too cold to wipe his dampened brow
His limped hat...  it glistens now
With cheeks of red, he steels his breath
Like forefathers did, until the death
Humble pride, a job to bear,
Another day that he will wear

In Dignity To The World,

 he paid respect to them all:

 God, animals, humans, things –

 he was poor, but living as a king.

 There Are A Thousand Treasures Of Kings
Worth More, Than All The Wealth, There Could Be !
Some Say, It’s In A Kingdom Of Dreams
Others Say, It’s As Real As You And Me

The Legend Says, There’s A Kingdom Of Love
In A Kingdom, Far Away And Above
Kings-Treasures, To Be Claimed By The Best
Those Worthy Of Courage, To Quest
And thus this story has begun,

For he is still quite young,
Desiring to look into the horizon,
Carefree, gulping his daily poison,
Boy from hills in the loose,
Carrying his basket of blues,

Wishing to wander into alien lands,
And holding on to random hands,
He masters the art of fancy ardour,
In the name of the lord of consciens,
Never has he dived into deep waves

But he has treaded into numerous caves,
Unraveling beings not known to me,
But I mind to be
His object of mysterious gaze;
As long as he stays

Whispers we'd heard for many a year
But we were so far north they never came near
Then the day came for us highlands ruling men
It wasn't just where, just a matter of when

Down from the desert tracts came us we Rajput clans
To fight for our freedom to cleanse us from them
Soldiers unknown marching so fineB But soon we would meet,
It's just a matter of time mountainsides so boggy,

Bracken lush to waist trepidation in our hearts,
our khadaga desire taste, shields of wood, katar of point
No shiny armour we carry, adroit the time is nearing
our scouts have declared intruders now sighted

None to be spared marching like ants
as if on familiar terrain no care to their flanks,
simply constrained to the mouth of our dirks
to these hideous men unknown to them,

To them descends our rajput clans,
When our ire erupts, our enemies fall
Ahead of them blocked, bails of hay now fired
We have them where they are, soon to expire

Confusion abounds, horses in throw
To whom they look up, administered blow
Arrows aplenty, spears of destiny
Targets hit, as our aiming should be

Reddened eruptions from flesh torn wounds
Khadagas thrusting deep,
admiring life consumed
Panic abounds amidst limbless souls

Crimson trails confirm our goals
Men of us in deadened taken
Battles like this should never be forsaken
Which spills the foremost foeman's life,
that party conquers in the strife

The sporadic scattering of our Rajput clans
To their beaten enemy, many lost in ascend
It's not the way we fought,
It's how we fought together
When all Kshatriya Rajput clans unite,
we're never to sever

Far away like the stars yonder
For them, untangling his profound wonder,
Wearing out his mind by night
Robbing broken birds from flight;
And thus the story will come to an end,

For he will move on to a deeper bend,
Leaving traces of rusty shackles
Nowhere to be seen from country castles.
I’ll go on wondering if he ever thinks,
Of fairy tales, fools and kings…