Hanuman

I think when I was younger I tried to eat the sun.
The gods, fearing for the star, punished my greed.
I’ve been struck by lightning, my body disfigured,
My jaw broken so I cannot protest,
And my air scooped from my shaky lungs.
I didn’t know it was a sin—no one told me it was.
What kind of being has the power to slaughter
So quickly and coolly, without reason or trial?
I’m just trying to live in this punishing world—
Forgive me, master. I thought it was fruit.