Dismal dark clouds signed his coming;
He hissed, crawled and made his way in
In through creeks, holes and darkness
When you know not yourself, you fall.
He hissed and crawled and tried his way in
A dove above the door, on the shade,
smiled, cooed and made him stop and look
He stopped, his hood up, eyes red, sharp look.
Hey, making way in? To make one more win?
Sowed your seed? No, you won’t, this time.
Dove cooed, flapped her wing and came down.
The giant coiled once more, put his hood up, stern.
You meager came down to me, such strength?
I am power, power of seven, seven mighty sins,
I am hungry, not just wins, I need prey, as food.
He grinned, his hood shined, seven thrilling colors.
You see me; I am white dove, but nay,
You won’t touch me, I am more an intuition:
From wisdom I emanate, I am an impression,
a flow, in symphony with thoughts.
Ha, you an impression? But I am more truth,
Truth with seven powers; Gluttony, Lust, Pride,
Greed, Envy, Sloth and Wrath.
You dreamed of warding me off,
That’s your idiocy not wisdom.
I am an age old truth, the history of mankind
Have you, any record of time? Read Epics,
History, Wars, or the Tree of Wisdom?
It was I, who fed Eve and Adam,
It was I, who sowed the first thought in them,
You?! You dreamed of warding me off?
I have just one colour and one power;
the power of wisdom, shining in white.
I won’t ward you off, but I am impassable:
For, in me no colour shows off, but merges,
Matures and gustoes as wisdom of soul.
Ha, that is but an idiot’s prophecy,
For, every colour will fight for self,
I have weapons sevenfold, and slaves fivefold,
It is body that houses soul, just a slave.
Hunger will grow to desire; it will show its envy
And destroy with its wrath, will pride over the win
A winning will sure celebrate sloth and lust.
Shut yourself up or be my prey, leave your pride.
No pride, just an insight, yes you are right;
Your way is easy and many, and the prey frail,
A vulnerable body and the soul, slave.
You must know, I won’t woo a frail;
They are destined to live on bubbles.
I find peace with brave hearts, who fights,
But, not fails the source of their sight,
existence, the very soul, truth of life.
Humility rules their knowledge,
That is where I acknowledge,
my presence and my virtues.
He hissed in wrath, fumed in envy,
His desire and lust for the victory,
Showed its teeth, but
Dove smiled over his sloth,
For, he prey fragile ignorant mules
Dove shined in her brave, pious prize,
an abode of sanctity.
The race will continue, she will fly and
he will crawl, they will win those who go forth them.