I gazed at a candle light in twilight
Burning under the baluster of a churchyard
And its fluctuating flame in soft breeze,
Can be withered its wick in a wildwind.
But I see white doves too under the eaves
Fluttering its wings and muttering murmur.
Thou' the Priest preaching about salvation,
At the red-carpeted pulpit.
Th' Chevaliers are still indulg'd in the rain of words
With their fluid-filled ears and vacant hearts
Lo! Heart of man is the art of God.
But his sculptured mind is fading its purity.
Tho' blessings from God is still flaming for us
Our heart is always searching for darkness
And if you ne'er come closer to get the light
That burning for you and me,
It will be melted like the candle.
An' we'll always be wandering in curse! ! ! !

VIPINS PUTHOORAN

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/blessings-26/