Poem - Kings

Bismillah, alhamdulillah

Like the smile of a man dying and old
Teeth brazen and bold

Pompous fountain relating stories
Reliving an age gone of past glories

The rest of the building stands by
Humbled by the blackness slowly rising high

Lost in the shards of infinity
Our hearts in their vicinity

A dull beat against the cold
Our hearts stained and rusted since old

Lamps draped in black gowns
Mortar boards and two towns

The mythology self fulfilling
The masses ever following

Devoid of schism a panacea they paint
The truth reduced to a tapestry faint

But never shall the twain
Abide with each other in refrain

Live and let live their call
But far short of Him they fall

O sweet Granada and Spain
Do you witness this tragedy and pain?

Little do we learn
From history and its return.

A poem after visiting King's College, Cambridge (1989)