by Preeyakit Buranasin
A bit naughty were My first and second.
A bit young and foolish too I reckon.
They disobeyed Me and broke My heart.
I must admit it wasn’t a very good start.
They had but one rule to follow, just one!
But for My ungrateful daughter and son,
It was apparently too much to ask
For them to follow such a simple task.
From that moment I could not let them stay.
I had no choice but to drive them away.
Away afar I forced them out of sight
And suffered they did the cruelties of life.
An example they became to the rest
So no other would dare My patience test.
And now the tale of my favourite son
Who had indeed a dignified deed done.
It is he, of all children, I most love.
It is he, of all sons, I’m most proud of.
To him, I gave an important mission.
He undertook it of his own volition.
And never once did he, Me, deny.
Though in the end My boy should have his doubts,
My boy endured the pain all throughout.
All the glory he’d gained, he deserves.
A gift for those who faithfully, Me, serve.
Well this is how I treat My very best
And next I’ll tell you how I’ll treat the rest.
Into two groups shall they be divided.
Don’t worry! Their fates have been decided.
The first consists of foul denials
And the disobedient. They’ll be trialed.
And suffer they will in a remote place,
Where they, their worst pain and terror, will face.
Their torture will continue forever.
Their pains and screams are my source of pleasure.
The second group will face no such fire.
They’ve lived according to My desire.
They live, they die, they kill, they sing for Me.
They’ve become the slaves I want them to be.
And the reward for being awfully nice,
A chance to serve Me with new eternal life.
And suffer they will in their own way.
Imagine eternity with Me. More need I say?
Editor’s Note on Let me Tell You How I Treat My Children:
Let Me Tell You How I Treat My Children is not the first poem by Preeyakit Buranasin to feature in Eastlit: