That\'s in a Name

Has the moon ever bowed down 
To the rippling shores? 
When the silver shafts of Luna
Dance to the rhythm of the placid waves,
Then the panorama of the tranquil land
Allays the tornado at the heart,
In the soul.

They complement each other so well.
Like red to rose, luster to pearl,
Melody to music;
Then why, I wonder, is one
A child of heavens,
The other, a stretch of earth?

God placed them, I was told,
In the moment of creation;
One above, the other below
Both necessary so;
Not one menial, none is low.

All His masterpiece, they said,
Is modelled out of 
Magic dust, a marvel.
All, they said, in His cosmoses is
A miracle, worth revering.
Then am I, a creature so ignoble
That they evade my shadow, spurn my will;
Force me to eat dead meat, dictate me to carry night-soil,
Shirk away on my presence
And call me words I don’t even recognize?

My identity is a taboo.

My mother told me to hide my name
As it apparently contained
An epithet, which distinguished me;
Not in the most graceful way.

I was characterized, and placed
At the lowest echelon of a pyramid
Which God didn’t create.
I was pushed down to depths
Of hell, which Satan didn’t own.
But spaces created by humans
Just like me; the dissimilitude lied
In a name they had, but I didn’t possess.

So I tried hiding mine self,
The who I was; as I feared
They’d repudiate my being,
Because of, who I was.

But those eyes pierced my existence every time, with
Looks of suspicion I dreaded;
Was I being paranoid?
As the same spaces of cultivation for others,
Became a terror-farm for me
Where I was a trespasser.

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