The Saint by Ngoyan Anne Cheung

From my ancient grave I rise.
My era has long ago passed.
I wander with a pair of widened eyes,
Trying to look for sites of the past.

There stands nothing but edifices of stone.
Not a flashing shadow of remnants remains.
Here comes the new, Goddess of the Unknown.
In the boundless kingdom, the Pure reigns.

People come and people go.
Buildings constructed and then demolished.
Finally, to strict morality man bows,
Forgiveness granted, souls are burnished.

I thought the world’s brought to life,
With endless joy and virtue back.
But then I realize that’s a lie.
A sense of rightness is what they lack.

Bearing this burden, I walk along,
With sore feet and a bended back.
They have no sense of right and wrong.
I’m the only one on this track.

Oh, all these sins, my Mother Earth.
Never is there a true spiritual rebirth.
Of your love, they are never worthy.
They will perish along with your mercy.

The awakened and the asleep.
People live and I lie deep.
I see clearly but people don’t.
So, which is which? It’s not known.

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