Killing Siddharta

There was once a renowned prince,
Who was so moved by the four sights
He renounced all material desires
In search of truth.

I too had a Princely heart like him,
In anguish I would move to tears.
There were sleepless nights
And a burning desire
To find the truth -
But I killed Siddharta.

He wished to lend a hand,
To the needy.
But I chopped off the will.
He spoke of the soul,
I introduced him color.
There were deceased pleading for a shoulder,
I resisted to get out of the blanket.
There was food enough to share
I opted to hoard.
He opened the windows,
I looked into the mirror.
There were virtues which he gathered
I kept my vices close.
And there were prayers which kept him calm,
I was least bothered.
He offered slippers,
I threw the empty bottles.
He chose to be close,
I stayed distant.

There was a constant conflict
And both of us were tired.
Even a morsel was enough for him,
I longed for riches,
Wished for more power.
There was still time I said
And put him to sleep.
In the dungeons of a cold heart
His screams to be unheard,
He was blindfolded,
And deprived of feelings -
He uttered ‘I can’t breathe’
But now it was too late.