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WHO CONSOLES THE 'CONSOLER'


With extraordinary gifts he touches your soul
His words find their way to your inner chamber 
Even his smile turns the lump into water
And rolls the stone so as to make entrance. 
Day and night, he's on duty
His heart is so rich of rooms
You may possibly think sufficiency is the case
But then, he is a landlord who collects no pay
The big room is no-go-area 
It has been reserved for the VIP 
The other room hosts the IP 
But every other room has he given out
His presence sets fire in your heart 
With his mouth doth he make flow the river;
The river that washes your pain
With his lips doth he make shine your bulbs
In his rage are you chastised and set back on your journey 
He is mortal, your 'Consoler' 
But who consoles your 'Consoler'?
Par:  Sambasy 
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