Why, Damascus?

Are you blood thirsty, Damascus,
Why let your citizens mourn,
Should your children die in cold blood,
Should the hypocritic world see this in scorn?
Why all these mortars and shells,
Why all this artillery shower;
Should a thousand children die
To keep a narcissist in power?
Why all these myriad of people
Why all these innocent children;
Who neither have an iota of fighting whims
Nor the legs strong enough to run?
Is that what you learnt from history
Is that all your long life has taught
Why,  Damascus, why
Is human life such a nought?

The World as Idea

The light of day has come
Because the darkness of day is gone;
Does it have anything to do
With light over darkness having won?

The World as Will

You and  me, now and here,
These  and those, there a yonder,
Some yesterday, some tomorrow,
Some delighted, some in sorrow,
All alive, just in time,
In ephemeral harmony and rhythm,
That's how we roll in style,
For eternity's erstwhile.

The World as Illusion

I am blind, I cannot see,
I am deaf, I cannot hear;
I am numb, I know no pain,
I am a dying corpse who knows no fear.
I know no beauty:
I am a dying leaf on a dead trunk;
I only 'see' you because I am drunk...