Sri Krishna: I shall mar thy clear skies of hope
With the ominous clouds of denial.
And of thy sinews I shall weave
A tapestry of unmatched sacrifice,
A raiment absolute of the Gods.

Upon the altar of thy tormented breast
I shall be Rudra, dire and mighty. 
Wait awhile beloved soul
It isn’t our time yet.

Aspirant: Beloved, for Thou speakest as my hope
And resideth in my faith, I live yet.

(Picture courtesy: Painting by Shanmugavel, from Jeyamohan)