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
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