Ancient reminders

My new shoe served to the dog on a platter.
Mirrors the clouds hanging above the sea.
(As it poured) Your storm water drainage its lost relevance,
He fled with his borrowed pedigree.

O tiller! the lord of margins,
Why don’t you harvest quick? They are all ripe!
And you must die tonight,

O Flatterer of the earth,
O son of the soil,
Leave the green fields,
And the poppies will be yours.

Let the song of the dawn
Echo across the mountain peaks.
The peace of the valley
May rise like the warm breeze.

There were just ancient reminders,
And pounding of the grandfather clock.

Post-oblivion

Stranded in the island of nothingness,
There is no unity of thought,
Just a random blob,
As if my existence is a fraught.

There were ample hands but not one finger raised,
Passions rise, but in a trivial haste.
“Let the light decide your fate!”
said God, waking up again.

“I now rise above oblivion”, said the mendicant friar,
“How much can one bear to bear?” said he,
The friar fought his own,
Your sins, he said, are mine.