The Only Solution to His Maddening Plight

Oh the many religions he made himself believe

In the hope that they his anguish would relieve!

Oh how a fanciful god in the sky he sought to please,

Hoping thereby his torment would finally cease!

Oh the many supposedly ‘holy’ places he went

And before them how he most reverentially bent

In the hope that by this he would obtain a cure

To the trauma that he could no longer endure!

Oh the many so-called ‘men of God’ he met,

Hoping that from them he would at last get

A miraculous end to the fear driving him mad!

You must believe me, it was really that bad!

Oh his many precious, wasted years

Frittered away in trembling and tears,

Fearing a sky-god and a devil, an imaginary twain!

Oh how this all threatened to drive him insane!

Time wasted in coping with this internal strife:

That’s how he squandered most of his life.

In his life’s evening, though, he came to realise

That no solution he had tried could ever suffice,

And that the cure he was seeking was to be found

Within his own self, and not outside and around,

So that the only solution to his maddening plight

Was to turn within and be his own light.