Exile

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Exile

A Sonnet

Sri Rama — By Bhrugen Bhaleeya

Ayodhya is no place for Thee O Rama
Keeper of promise of thy sire Dasaratha.
Bearing thy share of fate’s burden
All calm even to this misery sudden.

Thy youthful aid did Vishwamitra seek
For his Yagna and this bleak world’s sake.
Thou travelled as a young bright sun
Dispelling darkness since the world began.

Now gnarly Prayag and thicketed Chitrakoot
Are no hallowed ground to tread on foot.
Why venture into these infested ways,
Hear my counsel and my self that prays.

Even if every kingdom shall exile Thee
There is a sanctum in the bosom of me!