The Wise Call It Many Names

Whether the demeanor of a God or a monolith akin
An interwoven faith of deities spun without or within.
Should it after all provoke you such which idol I pray to?
Do you see me stung through the gaps of a web’s view?
How can you ask a fish submerged in an ocean for clarity?
How do you ask it to confine itself in a ravine remorselessly?
Some call the One Ram, some Yewah
Some serve the One as Rab, some Allah
The ivy draped on the stone masks those ever-divine eyes,
So tainted by the veil of illusion that renders the truth blind;
For all it sees are holy seas where you drown the deceased —
Suffocate and burn them under the guise of it being preached!
For why do you block off an entire river
Only to quench your thirst of a single sip?
For why do you strive for the salvation of an ember
And not that of the sunlight escaping your grip?
I am caned with open arms but my faith remains unshattered
Through miserable defeats and glorious victories I am battered.
Give up this sleep of delusion — before this life defuses
Remove the illusion of ‘me’ ‘mine’ and ‘I’.
My sentiments shapeshift as the tides wash over my bruises
Yet, I medidate on Her name until I die.
Says this servant of the One, in his youth
Forever in search for the ultimate truth.