Trembling footsteps in an emerging quake;
What shadows are mine that light shall show,
Memories as dreams, into twilight they grow.
With sticks we walk the walk of fame,
Crumbling souls in this soulless game.
Winds that carry the fragrance of life,
Mixed with tears and treacherous strife.
Still twinkling eyes can guide the dawn,
Can embody strength, can courage fawn.
Bedazzled by lightning yet holding their own,
Cracks in their hearts, sored to the bone.
Still lights shall shine in an effort to see
All that man is, and is yet to be.
Knowledge is vanity and yet it must
Give prudence a chance, in instincts trust.
Multitudinous in magnitude, but simple and straight
The human endeavour and its spirited gait,
Shall rise and speak when time shall call,
No man too weak, no child too small.
To ignite the long lost flame of hope,
Our chance to survive, humanity's rope.
2 comments:
so realisation at last knocks on the door
"No man too weak and no child too small.."
told i long back, 'Please hit the floor..'
coz then only shall u realise the monstrous ball..
it is the spirited gait of life..
that helps us survive this humongous strife..
let the cracks be, and let there be sores,
its through this holes that light pours,
it is through these that prudence gets a chance,
to take a go at the long longed dance...
it is these crevices that give light a path..
and allows us all to take our holy bath..
Shubho Bijoya, Bhalo thakish..
Knowledge is vanity and yet it must
Give prudence a chance, in instincts trust.
osadharon!one of your best!
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