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Inheriting Midas 5 March 2007

Posted by MOZAFFAR in MOZAFFAR, Poetry.
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Midas the king wanted hoards of gold
Granted his wish he was that day
And everything he touched became a treasure
Nothing for naught could stand in his way.

Then, he met his greatest of treasures
The young girl, his beloved daughter
He touched her too without a thought
And his touch of gold became her slaughter

I have been given the lands of Midas the king
For all around me is nothing but gold
For God has given me the best of all things
In every aspect of every fold

But my dark skill is not unlike his
I have this precious soft dear soul
But everything I touch it turns to soot
Everything I touch I turn to coal.

And those my beloved young dear daughters
I love them more than all that I am
And all that I was and all I could be
And all I would be and all I should be

I love them more than all the nations
I love them more than my own salvation

And now I’ve touched them
And like all the rest
They’ve begun to depart
For their lives I have messed

For I was given the lands of Midas the king
For all around me was nothing but gold
For God had given me the best of all things
In every aspect of every fold

But my dark skill was not unlike his
I had this precious soft dear soul
But everything I touched I turned to soot
Everything I touched I turned to coal.

I did not ask for this so powerful skill
I did not ask to make all my loves so ill
But each of us as a flaw in her soul
But I know somewhere is a light in this coal
And to find that light has been my lifelong goal

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