12. Struggle's gloom


With a blank sorrow, heavy I am now grown;

Like things eternal, changeless stands my woe.

In vain I try to overcome my foe.

O Lord of Love!

Make me more dead than stone.

Thy Grace of silent Smile I never feel;

The forger of evil stamps my nights and days.

His call my sleepless body ever obeys.

My heart I annihilate and try to heal.

The dumb earth-waste now burns a hell to my soul.

I fail to fight with its stupendous doom,

My breath is a slave of that unending gloom.

For Light I pine, but find a tenebrous goal.

Smoke-clouds cover my face of Spirit's fire;

Naked I move in night's ignorance deep and dire. ```

From:Sri Chinmoy,My Flute, Sri Chinmoy Lighthouse, New York, 1972
Sourced from https://srichinmoylibrary.com/mf