Hot Kiln

He shouts “Help me everyone Come on! I’m in a kiln Burning is my bare skin! ” Further whines and complains “Don’t you have compassion? For a suffering fellow-man” A Wiseman explains, “Well! That’s your hand-made hearth Smouldering in it are fuels Raw, rough and cruel charcoals You dug out from darkest Corners of your heart and Piled out around in your life Lust, greed and great anger Envy, passion and dirty conceit All ensembled to blaze hellfires In your hollow mind furnace To pull you out: there’s none A friend can wipe your tears As an act of mere solace Even God on your prayers Can give you only strength To endure this scorching pain To pull you out there’s none! ! The man in woebegone kiln Shouts again “What’s the solution? ” Wiseman smiled and advised “It’s simple my dear friend Stand up and just walk out”