In its dark Inner sanctum, br Of oily stone walls, br The soft radiance of br A small clay lamp humbles br The sun of my swollen discretion br br The undisturbed miasma br Of Captivating fragrance br Augmented by chosen flowers br And burning Incense br Diffuses the Fog of fears within br br The rhythmic high pitched br Clanging of the brass bell br Lifts the dead devotion br From the well of disbelief br And reforms my faith with each stroke... br br I took down my untamed ego, br Wavering conviction and br Unkempt austerity along br With my fragile body when br I bowed before the residing deity br br Some whiteness coated br My soul, like the limestone br Of the wall sticking to my robe, br While I sat on the old portico br Pondering piety and blasphemy br br The fine chanting of mantras br By the temple priest, and the br Made-up melody of a beggar br Both competed for clemency br One from god, another from me...