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All English Sonnets


With conches, bells and hymns, chanting shouts,
What deafening, doping cacophony make,
And he, who, this objects , does mistake,
Is “kafir” and subject to luckless rout.

Their vocal chords are swollen, strong and stout/
For singing all above the sacred hymns,
And without understanding to me seems,
And I express my view, they sulk and pout.

I say O! theist, atheist, O! monotheist,
I grant, this group , therapy carries clout,
And hypnotized believers have the least
Awareness of actions, without doubt.

Oh! let me on your words of wisdom feast,
And tell me what all this noise is about.

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